Be There
by Ooshka
Summary: AH/OOC Sookie Stackhouse knows that the best way out of a small town is to have a plan. She just doesn't know her plans are about to change. A burlesque class, a re-opened landmark, and a few new faces in town take Sookie in a direction she never planned on. All SPOV.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N So this is a bit of an experiment and is completely unrelated to all my other stories. I make no promises about updating it but, hopefully, there will be more, at some stage. A big thank-you to Thyra10 for having a read over a draft of this chapter, but I've fiddled with it since so the stupid mistakes are all mine.**

**I hope you all like it!**

**Disclaimer: I am not the owner of these characters.**

Wednesday nights, I went to the library.

It wasn't that I was a slave to routine, and it wasn't that my life was so empty of anything, well, anything spontaneous that I never, ever deviated from my Wednesday night errand, but I liked to know what the next day would bring and planning my trip to the library in the middle of the week gave me something to look forward to.

It felt good to have a plan for the week. So, just like Monday night I did groceries, and Sunday afternoon I cleaned my bathroom and Saturday morning was reserved for laundry and yard work, Wednesday night was library night.

My stop at the library didn't take me a great deal of time, of course. Mostly I was in and out with my books congratulating myself on getting another errand done. It helped that the librarian, Barbara Beck, kept some of the new books aside for me. That sped things up a lot, and meant I got first pick when the new stock came in.

On this day I was happily walking out of the library clutching the new Nora Roberts knowing that no one else in town had ever read this particular book and looking forward to being the first to crack the spine. I had my night planned. I was heating up a frozen lasagne when I got home, watching today's episode of _Jeopardy_ which I'd recorded on my DVR and then I was starting my Nora Roberts.

But for some reason I dawdled on the way out and my eyes raked over the notices pinned to the cork board in the entrance to the library. They weren't something I often looked at. Mostly, these days, they were handwritten cards put up by people who were offering to do yard work, or housecleaning, or any old tasks, for cash up front. They made me a little sad, the cards and all those people who put them up there. On that day, though, there was something new pinned to the board.

I noticed it because it had sparkly flowers for one thing. Maybe some little hearts as well, in pink and silver glitter. Also, it was advertising burlesque classes, in the old dance studio which had closed down years ago. It had been one of the first places I'd ever seen boarded up, and Gran had shook her head and told me how she'd remembered going there to learn to waltz before her wedding and how sad it was that there weren't dances, proper dances, where people actually danced with one another and not just gyrated in the middle of the floor. Dances for me to go to where I could meet a nice young man. Then we'd carried on down the street and I hadn't given it a thought since.

And I didn't give it too much thought now. It was, well, interesting, I guess, that something was opening up rather than closing down, but I had my plans, and my plans didn't include any dance classes.

I turned away from the notices and I walked right out of the library with my books in my arms. It was good to have plans. It was especially good to have a plan if you came from a tiny little town in Northern Louisiana like Bon Temps. The economy was not kind to tiny little towns in Northern Louisiana and even in my twenty-five years here I'd seen a lot of people leave, and a lot of businesses close. There were rumours about the Norcross plant being in trouble, and everyone was talking about that. If that went…well, I don't know what would be left in town. But I knew that you couldn't sell things to people if they didn't have the money to buy them.

So it was good to have a plan, a goal, something that was going to make sure you didn't end up having to move to Red Ditch and live in a trailer park near the chicken processing plant. That happened to my cousin Hadley's ex, Remy, and it was a mighty tough way to be bringing up a kid. Hadley, well, she'd had a plan to escape her whole damn life and the lifestyle she had chosen had not been kind to her. Drugs were one way of escaping, I guess, but it wasn't something I could ever imagine contemplating.

Lots of the other women I knew had plans. My friend Tara, her plan had been to grow up and get married and not be like her parents. She'd achieved that goal when she'd married JB du Rone and I was more than glad for her. Lots of others had yet to achieve their goals though. Dawn Green, her one aim in life had been to find a rich man passing through town to marry her, but her plan had been thwarted on two accounts. For one thing, very few people passed through Bon Temps, for another, she needed to stop passing so much time with my brother who was never going to be a rich man or take her away from here. Hell, most of the time Dawn was lucky if Jason just bothered to drive her to a movie in Monroe.

And then there were the likes of poor Maudette Pickens, who'd been in my year in school. Stuck working at the Grabbit Kwik she thought that someday her ticket out of here would be on one of those reality TV shows. Well, no one wants a reality TV show set in a Grabbit Kwik, and I really didn't think that making homemade sex tapes was going to get her an agent. Especially not if she kept making them with my brother. Boy, Jason really got around.

That was the trouble with a small town. Everyone got around and the dating pool was somewhat limited. I knew I'd run out of options and it wasn't just because I was related to Jason Stackhouse. No, I wanted something better, anyways. I wanted a career more than I wanted a man.

I wanted to be a C.P.A.

Granted, that maybe ain't the most glamorous of dreams, but then I couldn't see myself being like Maudette, either, and dreaming of a lifestyle that just wasn't going to happen in our little corner of Louisiana. I wanted something more out of life, and if my Gran had taught me anything, it was that if you wanted something, you went out and you got it yourself.

I hadn't always known that's what I wanted, though. It wasn't until I left school and got a job in the office of Herveaux Fine Furnishings in Monroe, that I even knew I had a talent for numbers. I answered the phones and calculated the salesman's commissions. I was good at that. And then, when there was a vacancy in the main Shreveport branch of the store, Mr Herveaux himself asked me if I'd like to apply.

So I found myself in the office there, once again answering phones but also managing the petty cash, calculating commissions and, occasionally, reconciling the bank statements. I was in hog heaven with all those numbers to play with. But more than that, it was where I met Sam.

Sam Merlotte was the accountant and he was in charge of the whole office. Well, sometimes Arlene thought she was in charge, just because she'd been there longer than any of us, but she wasn't. Sam was.

It was Sam who encouraged me to move into looking after Accounts Payable when Charlsie Tooten retired to spend more time with her grand-babies. It put Arlene's nose right out of joint. She did the Accounts Receivable, and boy, did she think she'd get Accounts Payable just handed to her on a plate. From the outside, the jobs look pretty much identical, one pays the money and one collects it, but once you've been in an office everyone knows that Payables is the better job, especially round the holidays when the suppliers all send through their gifts. Just last year a large furniture manufacturer over in Ruston sent me a lovely desk caddy, printed with their name on it in large, white letters. I have it on my desk right next to the Word of the Day desk calendar Arlene gave me as her Christmas gift.

I gave her a basket of toiletries from Wal-Mart. Not the cheap kind, mind you. The nice kind, with the real fancy smells. Frangipani, I think it was. I think our gifts matched. These things are important when you sit at a desk opposite another person for 50 weeks of the year. No one wants to think they were snubbed by a co-worker, even if that co-worker did get a desk caddy and you didn't.

I don't have a name-plate on my desk though. Only Sam has one of those. It reads _S. Merlotte. C.P.A._ One of these days I'll have one just the same: S. Stackhouse. C.P.A. It has a nice ring to it, don't you think?

In the meantime I was happy doing what I was doing, working hard, being the best at helping Sam with balancing the ledger and getting the monthly statements printed out (and that wasn't just my own conceitedness, that was what Sam had told me when we'd worked late together doing all the month end work). I was good at my job, and one day I was going to be good at Sam's job too.

I prided myself on never being late for work. So the next morning, when I got all the way down my driveway and on to Hummingbird Road and I realized that I'd left my new book at home, sitting on the coffee table, I was mighty displeased. But I wasn't turning back. No way was I letting Jannalynn Hopper get to work before me.

Jannalynn had taken over my old job of answering the phones and handling the petty cash. I didn't think she was all that trustworthy, she just looked…I couldn't put my finger on it. And it felt downright mean to be even thinking it. After all, she was just a girl who needed a job too. A girl who had no sense about how to dress in an office and although I didn't like to gossip, when Arlene pointed out that those sandals just weren't suitable footwear, I had to agree. I wanted to think the best of Jannalynn, but it was hard. Especially when she made it more than clear she didn't think the best of me.

She was always going to Sam and saying things like "I know Sookie used to do it this way, but don't you think it makes sense to keep more money in the petty cash, so I don't have to keep on running to the bank?" And Sam agreed with her! I mean, was it really that much of a chore to go to the bank? I liked going to the bank, I liked talking to the tellers, and the walk in the sunshine just broke up the whole afternoon.

But Jannalynn didn't feel the same as me about it, and I just had to let it go. It wouldn't do any damn good to point out to Sam that he was maybe just a little bit too fond of Jannalynn and giving her far, far too much leeway. It would just make me look like a bitter shrew, and I'd be damned if I'd give her the satisfaction.

This morning my commute wasn't too bad. If I left any later, I'd have been caught up in traffic, but I cruised down the interstate and into Shreveport, singing along to the radio. I loved singing, but I didn't have much of a voice. That didn't hardly matter though when it was just me in the car, and I relished the joy of being able to let fly at full-volume, watching the scenery as it passed me by. Jannalynn, or no Jannalynn, I felt happy to be going to work that day.

I pulled into the parking lot at the store and drove around to the back where the employees parked. Sam's car was already there, and I parked my Malibu a little way down from it in one of the spaces that wasn't reserved, next to Arlene's beat-up old Honda. Arlene was always in first, she liked to finish up early so she could meet her two kids off the schoolbus and not have to pay for childcare in the afternoons, and I couldn't blame her. Sam was pretty good about stuff like that, as long the work got done and clients were happy, he didn't mind.

I got out of the car, carefully balancing my big purse and my lunch bag and the insulated cup that held the coffee I'd brewed at home, and I walked across to the big green door at the side of the brick building which housed Herveaux Fine Furnishings. I put my purse over my shoulder and tucked my lunch bag under my arm so I could punch in the right code to open the big, shiny, silver lock on the door.

"Well, good morning, Sookie" said a deep, rumbling voice on the other side of the door. I took a moment to get my bearings and let my eyes adjust to the dark interior after the bright sunshine I'd been enjoying a moment before. "Good morning, Alcide" I said, as he flattened himself against the narrow corridor to let me pass. I smiled up at him, and he grinned back.

Alcide Herveaux was Sales Manager of the store, by right of being Jackson Herveaux's only son. He was a good salesman though, mainly because that smile and his handsome face set on a muscular, six and a half foot tall body could charm any woman that came into the store, even if she was just passing the time of day while waiting for her appointment at the beauty salon. He did a passable job with the men too, managing to make enough chit-chat about sports results and the state of the economy while making sure they were left with the impression that Herveaux Fine Furnishings was the place to come if you didn't want to be ripped off by those big chains who sent all their profits north and didn't care about the little folk down here.

I liked Alcide, and he liked me, but I knew that nothing was going to happen between us. For one thing, his girlfriend (who liked to style herself fiancée), Debbie Pelt, would kill me if I so much as looked at Alcide out of turn. That might sound like an exaggeration on my part, but let me tell you, Debbie was not one to be crossed. She was the sort to protect her little patch of the world at any cost, and I'd heard some stories from Holly, who used to work in our office and who'd gone to high school with Debbie, that did not paint her in a favourable light.

And there was also the issue of Alcide being the bosses' son. No way, no how was I going to go _there_. It was hard enough for me as it was. Although you might think that being blonde, blue-eyed, with a full bosom and a not displeasing face might have made my life easier, I can tell you straight-up, it had not.

All my life I'd had to struggle against the idea that I couldn't possibly have a brain in my head. Of course being Jason's sister probably hadn't helped the notions my teachers had had about me because, Lord knows, using his brain was not a talent Jason was renowned for in our parish. But even when they knew me as Sookie Stackhouse, and not hey-are-you-related-to-Jason-Stackhouse, I was still considered just another poor, dumb, girl from a small town who didn't know how to add up a row of numbers if her life depended on it.

I sometimes wasn't surprised that Maudette had ended up at the Grabbit Kwik. With the encouragement we got at school, it was mostly surprising we hadn't all taken Hadley's route out of here.

I walked up the staircase to where the offices were, and stopped in at the small kitchen and lunchroom to place my lunch bag in the refrigerator the staff could use. I made sure to push it all the way to the back, behind the yoghurts Arlene liked to bring in but never ate, so they sat there and slowly went off. No one ever stole them, either, but I knew that if I left my sandwiches in plain view one of the sales assistants would snaffle them up, quick as anything.

I brought my lunch because I was saving, hard. I wanted to enrol in night school and start working towards my dream. That was my plan. And if I had to eat the odd peanut butter and jelly sandwich in order to do that, well, that was just par for the course.

Of course sometimes when I saw the other workers going off for lunches in diners and coffee shops, bringing back the delicious smells of fast food they'd picked up, or even just enjoying a store-bought sandwich I was a little jealous. I'm not too proud to admit that. But I was too proud to sign up to crippling loans in order to attend the classes I wanted to.

I'd seen what debt could do to people. Crystal Norris, one of the girls Jason had hung around with for a while, had an addiction to The Home Shopping Network and so many credit cards that she was using one to pay the other. Trouble is that she hadn't got a job no more, and now she was back with her mama and step-daddy down in a run-down shack in Hot Shot and there were rumours, rumours I couldn't substantiate, mind you, that Crystal would be more than happy to date anyone who helped her pay off a chunk of that debt.

So home-made was good enough for me.

I was Sookie Stackhouse. And I had a plan.

I walked into the office and realized immediately something was going on. While most of us sat at our desks in a large, shared office, Sam had a separate office. With a door. Which he never, ever closed.

This morning it was closed.

That couldn't possibly be a sign of anything good, I thought, as I stared at the closed door and tried to work out what it signalled. In the end, I gave up and I placed my coffee cup down, put my purse in the bottom drawer of my desk and sat down and switched on my computer. Arlene walked over from where she'd been standing at the photocopier, staring pointedly at the windows of Sam's office, but the blinds had been drawn and I doubted she could see any more than I could by looking at the door.

"What's going on?" I asked as she came over to take her place opposite me, a sheath of papers in her hands.

"Well, I only arrived just in time to see Sam close the door. But I'm pretty sure it's Mr Herveaux in there." Arlene paused. "Senior," she added, although I could gather that much from the fact I'd seen Alcide before, and, although I'd seen him move pretty fast to get in front of a customer before any of the other sales people had a chance to talk to them, I doubted very much that he could get from the back exit all the way to Sam's office in the blink of an eye.

"What do you think they're talking about?" Arlene asked me.

"Well. Work." I didn't want to gossip, I didn't think it was really our place.

"But they talk about work all the time. With the door open. Why's the door closed this time?" Arlene wondered aloud, while chewing gum. It was kind of a crass look, but Arlene's dyed bright red hair had never screamed refined anyway.

"I couldn't say," I said, as I entered my password and opened up my email. I hoped that would be the end of it. I passed the next few minutes checking through my emaisl to see if any invoices or queries had been sent to me overnight. Some of our suppliers worked in different time zones and occasionally there was something I needed to attend to when I started work.

There was also an email from Tara, from her personal account. I'd been getting those a lot lately. I got the impression that maybe Tara's dream wasn't working out for her quite as well as she'd hoped. Now that she'd had to close her store and was working out of her house as a dressmaker (albeit one who was mostly self-taught) she had a lot of time on her hands. This morning's email simply had one word as its subject matter. _Lunch?_ it read.

I was about to compose a reply when the door to Sam's office opened and Sam and Mr Herveaux appeared. Sam looked careworn as he ran his hand through his hair. Whatever was going on, it wasn't good.

Mr Herveaux didn't give anything away. In fact he barely glanced in our direction as he said to Sam "So you'll tell me by the end of the week?" before turning on his heel and leaving our offices, presumably heading for the sales offices which were located downstairs behind the showroom.

Sam gave us both a small smile. "Mornin' ladies," he said, before he turned to sit back at his desk.

I looked at Arlene and she looked at me, but we didn't say anything. Instead she grabbed a piece of paper off her desk and hurried after Sam. "Say, Sam! Can you sign this credit note before I send it out? This is for that sofa we sent to those dentists, and they said it didn't fit the waiting room when they did the measuring…" I stopped listening and turned my attention back to my monitor, and, more specifically, Tara's email.

I shouldn't be paying for a lunch. I shouldn't. Tara certainly shouldn't, because I knew that on JB's wage from the gym, where he was a receptionist who sometimes helped out as an instructor, they were struggling. But right then, just then, I wanted a friend to talk to.

I sent back an email which read _Sure. What time?_ and then opened up the program we used to manage all our billing.

I wasn't paying much attention to Arlene as she hustled back to her desk, but her hand waving across my desk caddy made me look up at her. "Hey," she said. "I saw something. On Sam's desk."

I wanted to say to Arlene that snooping was wrong, but, darn it if I wasn't curious myself. I wondered if the rumours I'd heard about us buying up that old store on the outskirts of town was true. Furnan's had been in trouble for a while, and while it wasn't in a great location, it made sense for Herveaux's to take it over, rather than one of our competitors.

"I think," Arlene began, and then she straightened up from her slightly hunched position over her desk, clearly warming to the importance of the message she was delivering. "I think Sam's going to fire someone."

"Fire?"

"Well…let them go" Arlene said, in a whisper that wasn't really a whisper. "There's something on his desk, says something about restructuring the office…anyway. We're safe, ain't we?"

Arlene looked at me for confirmation. I hesitated for a moment while I thought it through. Yeah, we were. "Money's gotta be collected," I said to Arlene.

"And bill's gotta be paid," she assured me. I was quietly confident we were OK.

Just then the office door opened and Jannalynn walked in. She scowled at us. "Mornin' Jannalynn," Arlene said, with just a hint of ice in her voice. I echoed the greeting, thinking that I was much better at hiding my feelings than Arlene was, and Jannalynn barely mumbled a good morning back to us, before sitting down at her desk with her back to us. I didn't really appreciate the way she was so rude to Arlene and me when, really, we deserved a little more respect from her.

Well, that might have been a little mean. And I did try not to be mean to Jannalynn. She was very young, after all, and this was her first time in an office. Before this she'd worked at the Sonic. Who knew what went on behind the scenes there? Probably best not to think about it and just keep on enjoying the food.

Sam stuck his head out the office door. "Uh…Jannalynn? Could I have a word?" he said, and then he went back and sat down behind his desk. With a glance at us, Jannalynn followed. She'd stepped inside the office when Sam's voice said, "Close the door."

The door shut, and Arlene and I looked at each other. "Wouldn't want to be her about now," Arlene said, in a voice that was sympathetic on the outside, and gleeful at the core.

"No," I agreed. "I wouldn't want to ever be Jannalynn." Well, when I spoke that, it was the God's honest truth. It just turned out that it maybe wasn't for the reasons I thought at the time.

**Thanks for reading!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N Well thank you all for the lovely response to the first chapter of this story, and all the reviews, favourites and alerts. I hope you enjoy this one just as much!**

**Disclaimer: It's much harder to pretend they're mine now I've given Sookie back her original accent :)**

It was pretty easy to see that Arlene was rattled by the morning's events, and I could hardly blame her. After all, she was supporting her two kids all on her lonesome now since their daddy ran out on her a few years back. I was fond of Arlene's kids, but they sure gave me a couple of real good reasons to be careful with my heart. No way was I going to throw away my affection on a man who'd only leave me holding the baby when times got hard.

Not when I had my plan, anyway. And I didn't need a man for that.

In the meantime I was stuck facing Arlene and her increasing distraction. She filed a nail, chewed her gum ever more noisily and shuffled a lot of papers, a lot of times. And then she would sigh, and begin all over again.

I began to suspect that there wasn't much likelihood of me being able to concentrate this morning, and even less likelihood of Arlene doing any work. Even the fact that Jannalynn had only been in Sam's office for no more than five minutes and was now back at her desk tapping away on her keyboard, hadn't helped to persuade Arlene that there wasn't anything sinister going on, and that, in fact, it was all just business as usual.

Lots of business. Business that it was our business to attend to. But Arlene was just hell-bent on finding herself a distraction.

And soon enough she got one. "You know," she announced, after a few moments of tapping at her keyboard. "I still can't print my emails. Half of the writing just isn't there on the page. Look!" She walked to the printer and came back with a page she waved at me. I glanced up at it, and then back down at my own work.

"You want me to take a look at it?" I asked. I was pretty good with the IT stuff, and around here, they were grateful. Alcide hadn't had enough good words to say about me that time I showed him how to set rules on his email, so it went into little folders when it arrived. Well, he'd been grateful up until that Debbie had shown up in the sales office where we were standing and had started asking Alcide if he was "…done with showing his staff how the computer system worked?"

I'd waited for Alcide to say something to let Debbie know it wasn't like that and meanwhile she'd followed it up with a laugh that was way too girlish for the way she was staring daggers at me, but in the end he'd just said "I'm ready now, Debbie," and he'd left, with only a nod in my direction.

Still, mostly people were grateful. Except today Arlene shook her head. "No," she said. "No, I think it needs a new setting up…or something. You know?"

Well I had some ideas, but more than likely they were quite different to what Arlene was imagining. "And it still ain't right when you print on the big paper, is it?" she asked me.

I had to give her that one. Our printing was a little out of alignment occasionally, but it didn't stop me loving our printer any the less. I'm sure for a lot of people getting a new printer in their office wouldn't count as a red letter day, but let me tell you, not having to deal with constant paper jams and ending my days covered in ink was a real blessing as far as I concerned, and I was very grateful to Sam who'd taken it upon himself to plead our case to Mr Herveaux, who wasn't particularly interested in the problems we faced up here as long as the work got done.

Still, I was reluctant to suggest we investigate further, because I knew what was coming next. "You think Bill's around Shreveport today?" Arlene asked.

"I couldn't say, Arlene. I don't know what his plans were." I hoped I sounded like I didn't care either, because as far as I wanted it to be known, Bill and I were a closed chapter.

He was my ex-boyfriend, and in the way of small towns everywhere, I guessed, he was also my closest neighbour out in Bon Temps. Things between us were…well, probably as settled as they were ever going to be in that although I knew in my heart we just weren't suited, it didn't stop my brain from occasionally wandering into the dangerous territory of thinking about what might have been.

I knew that was just loneliness, though. Bill, on the other hand, well I don't know what his excuse was for sometimes popping up when I least expected it and reminding me that, actually, he'd be perfectly happy to pick up where we left off. I just wasn't sure how that realtor, Selah Pumphrey, who he was dating now, felt about that.

And I tried not to think too hard about how I felt about it either. I had moved on, and that was the way things had to stay. Getting back with Bill was just, simply, not part of any plan I currently had.

"You could give him a call, couldn't you Sookie?" Arlene asked.

"It doesn't seem _that_ urgent." It didn't really. "I'm kinda busy here…" I trailed off, hoping Arlene would get the hint that I just plain wasn't interested in calling a guy I used to date simply because Arlene was distracted and didn't want to do any work.

I was not here for the sole entertainment of Arlene Fowler.

"But it's Thursday, Sookie. And isn't Thursday when Bill normally drives over and does that thing for that other place? You know? The insurers?"

I shrugged. I knew, but giving away that I knew seemed like a confirmation that I cared more about the movements of Bill Compton than I wanted to admit, even to myself. "I'm a little busy here, trying to reconcile the payments for Salton's. Maybe you should call him if you're not doing anything else?" I suggested.

"Oh, I got plenty to do," Arlene said. "But I wanted to print out this email to put in the file, and then I couldn't. So my work ain't really getting done now, is it?"

I didn't think Arlene really needed an answer to that question, and then Jannalynn called out "Rec's done," anyway.

"Thanks, hon," Arlene called over to her, and Jannalynn nodded and went back to her other work. I was glad the bank reconciliation had been completed because I was hoping I could locate some outstanding payments that I was sure had been paid and but which the company still thought we owed them. I just wasn't sure that Jannalynn should be doing the reconciliation.

Not because she was Jannalynn, I wasn't that plain uncharitable. No, it was because of what the accounting books called separation of duties. It meant that the person who opened the cheques and banked the cheques shouldn't also be reconciling the bank account. Sure, it'd been that way when I'd had Jannalynn's job, but I knew I could trust me and I knew I wasn't going to steal any money. Since then I'd taken a book on accounting practices out of the library and done some study.

I'd taken my new-found knowledge to Sam, and he'd looked thoughtful. "I just think it's a risk, is all…" I'd said. Sam had nodded and smiled. "Well, strictly speaking, you're right, Sookie," and I'd felt pleased as punch at hearing that. I wasn't just some girl who was happy to walk to the bank, I actually knew something. I was capable of figuring out how the stuff they had in those books actually applied to the work we were doing here.

I was mighty proud of myself.

But Sam had continued on. "I think, though, Sookie, in this case we can make an exception. That's quite common in a smaller workplace, and I'm confident that the managerial oversight I have over what goes on here will negate the small amount of risk of having someone do both jobs."

I'd felt a little less pleased with myself after that because, after all, wasn't Sam just saying that I shouldn't worry, he'd take care of it? It wasn't the first time I'd had a man tell me that, and it really didn't matter whether it was Bill or Sam speaking, the result was the same.

But then Sam paused and looked at me, straight in the eye. "But you know, Sookie. I don't think it's a bad idea to shake things up a little. What say we rotate the reconciliation so you and Arlene take a turn as well? Say…one week a month one of you takes over?"

I stopped feeling quite so deflated and beamed back at Sam. For once in my life someone actually listened to me because they thought I had something worth saying. "I think that sounds like a great idea, Sam!" I'd said to him, and he'd replied "Well, I can't take credit for all of it. I think this was a team effort."

It felt great to be part of Sam's team, it was just a pity that team included Arlene, who'd been less than pleased about getting what she termed 'extra work that ain't really my job' and Jannalynn, who just muttered something about how some people just liked to have their fingers in every pie.

I didn't care, though; I had bigger fish to fry, after all. And right now, that fish involved trying to figure out just what had happened to the payments that had gone out for Salton's. I was sure I'd prepared the payment file on the previous Monday, but they'd sent me a statement showing some of our invoices were overdue. I knew they'd been later than they should have been; Mr Herveaux had wanted to 'discuss' the amounts we were paying with his contact at Salton's, but I'd still managed to get the payment out.

Hadn't I?

I checked the system, and sure enough, the payment file was still just sitting there, as it had been for two days now. Well, that made me mad.

"Jannalynn! You remember I asked you to be the second authoriser on that payment for me on Monday?" She turned to face me. "What?"

"The payments? When we were here late on Monday, and I said if you authorised it too, it could go out? You didn't do it."

Jannalynn screwed up her face. "I don't know what payments you're talking about." She looked at me like I had a screw loose. Well, I didn't. I knew for a fact I had a very good memory and I could sure as hell remember as far back as Monday.

I looked at Arlene, who just shrugged.

"I'll do it now" Jannalynn said, as she turned to look at her computer. I don't think she quite understood just how mad it made me. I wasn't that sloppy. I didn't just leave things half-finished, and when I promised a customer I'd put through a special payment because they'd missed the billing cycle, well then I damn well did that.

I didn't sit there like Jannalynn and pretend I'd never heard anyone mention it before. I felt such a white-hot rush of rage at her that I was half-afraid I might get out of my seat and hit her over the head with her own desk-stapler.

But I didn't. I took a deep breath. And then I looked at the next item on my neatly written out to-do list. That made me feel a little calmer. I was on top of my job, and I wasn't going to let Jannalynn's sloppiness and devil-may-care attitude drag me down with her.

We might all be a team, but that didn't mean I couldn't still shine in my own right.

I worked steadily until it was nearly noon, and then I carefully locked my computer and picked up my purse out of my desk drawer. "Going somewhere nice?" Arlene asked, as I gave my hair a fluff and ran my fingers through the ends, trying to separate out the curls.

"Just meeting Tara." I started to walk toward towards the door of the office.

"That sounds nice," Arlene sighed. "I could do with a break." I couldn't imagine why, she'd barely worked all morning. I pretended not to know she was fishing for an invitation and I headed out of the office, down the hallway to the back stairs, and outside into the parking lot.

The sun was high in the sky now, and I paused just outside the door to pull my sunglasses out of my purse. As I did so I heard Alcide's deep voice say "What brings you out into the noonday sun, Sookie?"

"A lunch date," I replied, turning to smile at him. "You?"

"Same." I might've guessed he was waiting on Debbie; she liked to keep him on a short leash far as I could tell.

"Well. I hope you enjoy it." I started to walk off, when Alcide spoke again.

"And if I don't?"

I stopped walking, and turned back around. "Don't what?" Alcide was gazing at me intently and I was thankful I had my sunglasses on so he couldn't read my expression. I wasn't quite sure what kind of an affect Alcide was aiming for, but he was sure doing a good job of having me hang on every word he said.

Any minute now I was sure he was going to ask me if I'd thought about replacing my sofa.

"If I don't enjoy my lunch," Alcide explained, taking a step closer to me. "Should I come find you, Sookie?" He took another step and I fought the urge to step backwards, but then wondered if the fact I didn't was an admission of some kind.

Well, damn Alcide and his attempts at charm. And double-damn my insides for getting all flippy and excited by it.

Now I was just annoyed, but not as annoyed as Debbie was. Her sleek, silver convertible pulled up and the tinted window rolled down enough that I could see her lips were set in a thin, hard line.

"Well, if you're still hungry I left my sandwich in the refrigerator," I said to Alcide. "It's PB and J. Homemade. Should fill you right up. Well, gotta run. See you round, Alcide." And without lingering, or glancing at Debbie again, I strode right to my car.

I waited until Alcide and Debbie had left and then I started the engine and drove out of the parking lot and down the street for a couple of blocks. I pulled into the parking lot of the diner where I'd agreed to meet Tara and saw that her car was already there. Hustling through the door and into the clean, crisp, air-conditioned air inside, I found Tara sitting at a booth, glaring a guy who was sitting at another booth, looking intently at his lap-top.

Uh-oh.

I slid into the seat opposite Tara. "I can't believe all these people!" she said, in lieu of a greeting. "I mean, it's lunchtime, can't they put those damned things away for five minutes? I'm pretty sure the world won't stop doing interesting things even if no one is watching it streamed live on YouTube."

"Well, no." I mostly agreed with her, but I would have liked to discuss something else over lunch. The waitress came over and poured us both a cup of coffee. She must have heard Tara's little speech because she nodded at the guy with his laptop and said "We gotta give them the Wi-Fi or else they all go down the street to Starbucks."

"Life just used to be so much simpler without the internet," Tara muttered darkly. She blamed the internet for the failure of her clothing store, which had been situated in a strip mall just outside Bon Temps. She wasn't completely incorrect in her reasoning, after all, why buy from Tara when you could buy direct from a big chain store and they'd ship direct to your door? Tara just couldn't compete with the prices those retailers were offering, especially when she had the rent and overheads from her store to cover. Rent that she paid to Bill Compton, who'd decided to invest in property and was now probably regretting that due to the high-turnover in those stores. Last I'd heard, someone had wanted to open a tattoo parlour in the store that had been Tara's Togs, and Bill was seriously considering it.

Luckily the waitress was hovering beside us and Tara had to move on to give her order. She had the chicken salad and I opted for the meatloaf, reasoning that if I ate a good lunch I could have a small dinner, maybe even my leftover sandwich, and that way this wouldn't be such a burden on my finances.

See? I was a born accountant.

Over lunch Tara and I talked about what we'd been up to, which, in short, wasn't much more than we'd been doing the previous week, or the one before that. It seemed like both of us were treading water at the moment, although at least I knew why that was the case for me. I was waiting to put my plan into action.

Tara, however, well like a lot of people she was just trying to get by. "How's JB gettin' on at work?" I asked, as I finished up the last mouthfuls of meatloaf. It had been very good, but nowhere near as good as if I'd made it myself.

That made me a little sad. After all treats were supposed to be special, weren't they?

"Oh, he's fine," Tara said, picking through her salad. "I mean…he enjoys it. Working at the gym. The ladies who go in there just love him. But I keep saying he should ask his daddy for some work at the auto-parts store…he doesn't want to, though. That kinda work just ain't JB, I guess." The du Rone's owned the auto parts store in town and they seemed to be keeping their heads above water because in this economy who could afford to replace a car?

Tara sighed and stared at the window. JB was a good man, but he was never going to be a dynamic go-getter and maybe that was just dawning on Tara. I was trying to figure out what to say, but then Tara looked like she remembered something and she picked up her purse and started looking through it. "But he did say a new client came in the other day…" she said, somewhat mysteriously.

She pulled out a sheet of paper that looked somewhat familiar and put it in front of me. It was another flyer. For the burlesque dancing classes. "She's opening up the old dance studio again, and she's doing these classes in the evenings. Look like fun, don't they?"

I wasn't sure what to think. "Isn't that just stripping, Tara?" It wasn't that I had anything against it, in theory, I just had no desire to be one of those women getting drooled all over at Hooligan's in Monroe while they showed a room full of men what exactly that had under their clothes. I wasn't a prude, but that just wasn't me.

"No! It's classy, not slutty. It's _burlesque_, anyway. You know, like that woman? One married to that weird guy with the makeup?" I shook my head, I had no idea. Tara was always better at keeping up with the celebrity gossip than I was.

She gave me a disappointed look. "You need to get out more. Didn't you see the movie? Anyway, it's not taking your clothes off…it's dancing, but sexy. _And_ it's exercise. JB thought I might like it more than using the Stairmaster at the gym. That gets kinda boring. And I do love to dance. So do you. Remember that routine we did at school?"

I did, and I still felt a little embarrassed to this day. There had been nothing wrong with our execution of the dance Tara and I had learned for the school talent show, in fact, we'd been damned good. But we'd been a little young, and hadn't quite figured out that the moves we were doing, moves we'd copied from a hip-hop music video, were a little too provocative for a pair of girls still in training bras.

The teachers had been disapproving, the boys had taken it as a sign we were far more experienced than we were and the girls, some of them, anyway, had been downright mean about it. I was fairly sure that some of the difficulties I'd faced at high school had been in part due to that stupid dance routine we never managed to live down.

But now I'd got somewhere with my life, and I wasn't about to step backwards and be that dumb blonde girl who could shake her booty again.

"I don't think that's me," I said to Tara, before she could ask me to join her. It was too late, because that's where she'd been heading. Her face fell and I felt mean. "Well…I mean…" I back-tracked. "Maybe. I'll think about it."

"Classes are on Wednesday nights, Sookie," Tara said, as though everything was settled and I'd answered yes. I guess in her mind, I had.

"I'll have to check if I'm free those nights," I murmured, and Tara looked at me sharply. "You started night-school?"

"Well, no." I didn't really want to confess to not wanting to shift my library night. "But I got things on."

Tara looked sceptical, but she was good enough not to call me out.

We parted ways, with me still promising to think about the classes and Tara trying to tell me what I had to wear when I showed up the following week, and I drove back to work. There was no Alcide in wait for me this time, which was a relief.

When I got to the office though, Bill was there. I wasn't sure if that was better or worse. I guess Arlene's need for a distraction had gotten too great and she'd finally called him herself.

Well, that wasn't so bad, was it? I mean, he could hardly think I'd used it as an excuse for him to come and see me, when I wasn't the one calling and I wasn't even here when he arrived.

But then Arlene saw me walk in and said "See, Bill? I told you she'd be back soon. She knew I was gonna call you and she'd be mighty sore if she missed you." Arlene winked at me, like this was some kind of a set-up that I was in on.

I glanced at Jannalynn, who rolled her eyes at us and turned back to her work. Well, of course now she was Little Miss Diligent. For one thing, Sam was hovering near her desk, looking through some files. The files that were normally locked away, all the personnel records and important things like that.

He was concentrating real hard on whatever it was he was doing, but it didn't stop Jannalynn hoping he'd turn sideways and notice her. I could see her eyes flick his way several times.

But she was out of luck, as he took a file, locked the cabinet and walked back to his office.

I tried to concentrate on my work too, but Bill was sitting at Arlene's desk, using her computer, and the effect was downright disconcerting on a number of different levels. I looked at my to-do list and willed myself not to look up. I failed, and I caught Bill glancing at me. "How's work these days, Sookie?" he asked and his voice was as smooth as it ever had been and the warmth in it made me feel as though I could just tell him everything.

But I couldn't. It wouldn't be right. Not after all this time.

"It's just great, Bill." I unlocked my computer and hoped that was the end of the matter. Or I told myself it was the end of matter, anyway, as internally I shouted down the stupid little voice who was telling me that Bill cared about me, and wasn't that something that we should appreciate? Maybe even reciprocate?

Stupid little voice. Maybe I'd get her a cat.

At least Arlene was on hand to talk to Bill. "I just don't know why it ain't working right," she said. "I thought when we got a new printer it would all be OK from the get-go, but we ain't been able to print those big sheets since it came now, have we Sookie?" I nodded, realising that Arlene didn't require much more from me that.

"Well you could have called the customer service people. The ones who installed it," Bill said, managing to keep any trace of annoyance out of his voice. I was always impressed by how he did that. It took a lot to ruffle Bill, and I had to admit that when I'd pushed and pushed at him to find out just what it did take, it had been a hollow victory.

"Oh. But they ain't you, Bill!" Arlene said. "And we'd rather have you, wouldn't we Sookie?"

Before I had a chance to say anything to that, Bill spoke. "Oh, I don't know that that's exactly how Sookie feels, Arlene." He looked straight at me and dared me to contradict him.

Well, nuts to Bill. If he'd come here hoping that I'd admit I'd been wrong to let him go, he had another thing going. "You've been very helpful, Bill. Although I did say to Arlene that I could take a look at her email for her. I'm sure I could have helped her with that."

"Undoubtedly, Sookie," Bill said, as he stood up and held out Arlene's chair for her to take his place in it. She tittered appreciatively, and gave me a look across the desk, one which suggested she couldn't understand why I wasn't happy with Bill and all his gentlemanly ways.

"Well, see you round, Bill," Arlene said, as Bill picked up his laptop case. "Don't forget to send your bill to Sookie!" She giggled like that was a huge joke.

Bill wasn't laughing though, and neither was I. He stopped by my desk, and placed one hand on mine. I was tempted to jerk it back, but his hand was gone again before I had the chance to react, or tamp down the unwanted jolt of desire that hit me as soon as Bill's flesh touched mine.

I cursed myself for reacting that way to Bill, just as I'd cursed myself for reacting to Alcide earlier in the afternoon. I was better than some alley cat who'd throw herself at the first tom she found yowling on a fence, I knew I was.

But I was lonely, all the same. And a new Nora Roberts book could only fill so much of my time.

"Goodbye, Bill," I said, as firmly as I could.

"Goodbye..." Bill dropped his voice so the others in the office would have difficulty hearing him. "…sweetheart." Then he turned away before I could give him the look that said I didn't appreciate him still using that endearment. "See you around, Sam," he called out.

Sam's voice called out "Bye, Bill." Bill and Jannalynn both ignored each other, and then he left.

"I don't know why you threw him over, Sookie," Arlene tutted at me. "You surely can't go wrong with a good man like that."

I didn't respond, and Sam rescued me anyway by coming out and handing me a piece of paper. "Can you look into this, Sookie? The CFO from PackMaster called me while you were out at lunch, said we've been short on the last few payments."

"Sure, Sam." He nodded and walked back to his office. Well, that was odd. I was sure I'd paid them too.

I started looking through their accounts. And then I pulled out the bank reconciliations, and the bank statements so I could tally up all the payments. I rang their accounts receivable department, who all seemed to be having a long lunch break, and I was still on hold with them when I waved Arlene off for the day and when Jannalynn came back from a trip to the bank complaining about how hot it was out there.

Finally the woman I got on the phone confirmed that no, they definitely didn't have our money. She sounded quite grumpy about it, which was unfair. It wasn't personal, it was business.

"I gotta take off early," Sam announced to Jannalynn and me.

"OK." I didn't begrudge Sam the time. Goodness knows he worked enough hours when it was required. At the end of the financial year he practically slept in his office as we worked to get all the accounts finalised and tax time, well let's just say we all bore our scars from that.

So Sam leaving early, that was nothing. Jannalynn leaving early, though, about ten minutes after Sam, that was a little odd.

"Dentist," she said, and she bared her teeth at me, which was just downright disconcerting. And then she put her purse over her head so the strap hung down across her body and walked out the door.

So it was just me, and the mystery of what happened to all the money we'd paid PackMaster for the packaging products they'd sold us.

I flicked through the screens of payments again. I'd entered the invoices. I'd prepared the payments. The payments had been authorised. We had money going out of our bank account which matched those payments. None of that money had been returned.

It was incredibly odd. And frustrating. And just a tiny bit exhilarating. I loved the hunt, chasing down the numbers, figuring out what had happened and how we were going to fix it.

And there was always a reason, wasn't there? Money didn't just disappear into the great beyond.

I thought it through again. Invoice, payment, payment goes out, payment goes to…

I checked the information we had stored for PackMaster; their address, their phone number, their tax details, their email contacts, their bank account number.

Sure enough, a couple of months earlier, we'd updated their bank account number or, from looking at the user I.D logged in the system, Sam had updated their bank account number.

I guess he'd just had it wrong? Which seemed unlike Sam, but there was no other explanation for it, and he wasn't there to ask anyway. There was nothing I could do but pack up for the day and head on home.

I was just pulling into Hummingbird Road, with my driveway almost in view when it hit me. Why hadn't I seen any statements saying we were so overdue with our payments? Why hadn't PackMaster contacted us earlier?

Something about the whole matter didn't feel right, and I almost turned around and headed back to the office to dig some more. But I couldn't really get anything done that night, and it would still be there in the morning.

I was confident in my abilities to figure it all out. We'd find the money, we'd apologise, our credit would still be good and Sam would be pleased I'd helped him out. Again.

I was looking forward to that moment, the moment where I could hand it to Sam and know I'd done a good job. I just didn't know that I was looking forward to something that was never going to happen.

My night at home with my book was like many nights I'd spent home alone. I listened to the sounds around the house, the animals and insects out in the woods beside the old farmhouse I lived in. To some people it might seem isolated, even a little creepy. But to me it was home. I'd lived here since I was seven years old and my parents had died in a flash flood. My Gran had taken me and my brother Jason in and raised us up despite the fact that things weren't always easy for her.

Gran had passed away two years previously; her heart had given out in the end. I missed her every day. But I stayed on in the house she'd left to me, Jason having moved into our parents' old house when he turned 18, and I felt that being here, in the house where Stackhouse's had lived for over 100 years now, kept me close to her. I liked my house, even though it was expensive to maintain and the old tin roof could keep me awake at night in heavy rain, even though nothing in it was new, or fancy, and some of it wasn't even that pretty to look at.

But if I was going to be lonely, I might as well be lonely and comfortable at the same time. It was the same line of reasoning that led me to take a shower for as long as the hot water held, and put on my oldest and softest nightgown before I hopped up in the high, old bed which had belonged to my grandparents.

I was home. I was safe. I was in a good place.

The next morning I drove to work anxious to begin on the PackMaster reconciliation all over again. My plans went awry, however, when Sam called me into his office before I'd even switched on my computer.

I hoped he hadn't had the people from PackMaster on the phone again, complaining about us. "I think I've figured out what the problem is…" I started to say as I walked into the office, but Sam cut me off. "Shut the door, Sookie."

I did as he'd asked, with a sense that things were not at all well. "Take a seat." Sam nodded to the chair on the other side of his desk.

I sat down. And waited, even though I was anxious to know when exactly Sam had received the notification to change PackMaster's bank account, and whether we still had it on file.

"Sookie," Sam began. "As you know, times are tough at the moment, and Mr Herveaux has asked all the departments to look into where we could cut some costs."

I nodded, and felt slightly guilty about the new printer. If they had to lay off one of the guys in the dispatch department because of that, I would be mighty upset. A few paper-jams were nothing when compared to a family losing its breadwinner.

"That includes us, Sookie," Sam continued. I started to feel a little queasy. What if Arlene was going? What about her kids, Coby and Lisa?

But Arlene would be OK, wouldn't she? Same as I would. Jannalynn, though, that was another matter.

"It's been a, uh, difficult decision, Sookie. One of the toughest I'd ever made. I like to think we're a team, and when a team loses a member…a valuable member at that…" Sam stopped. "Oh, hell Sookie," he said, which came as a bit of a shock. What could be that bad?

"I'm afraid I have to let you go."

**Thanks for reading!**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N Wow! I'm still so blown away by the response this story is getting. Thank you all for that, I really appreciate it.**

**Disclaimer: Not mine.**

For a moment I heard nothing over the pounding of my own pulse in my ears. After a while, during which time it looked as though Sam was scrutinising me for signs of a mental breakdown, it finally died away and I was able to speak. "Let go?"

Sam sat back in his chair and ran a hand through his hair. "Well, Sookie. Officially your position is being dis-established."

That didn't sound right. "You ain't gonna pay people no more?"

Sam half-smiled at that comment, but I hadn't meant to be funny and he realised that and adjusted his expression. No, I was deadly serious. I didn't understand exactly how a job that was keeping me quite busy on a day to day basis suddenly just wasn't required. Was Mr Herveaux going to run the whole store using only his credit card?

"We're combining some of the, uh, roles in the office, Sookie. Making some part-time. It's an unfortunate business, but we've all got to cut costs if Herveaux's is going to survive the retail downturn."

Well, swell. So the store would go on, just without me in it. The whole thing sounded a little wrong to me, the idea of only a couple of people doing all that work, but I wasn't about to intervene on their behalf. And I had thought of something, or, rather, someone, anyway.

"Isn't it supposed to be last in, first out?" I asked. Sam considered that.

"Like I said we've, uh, we've had to downsize the office and... uh, well. I tried to think about what would be best for you, Sookie. I knew working fewer hours might be a problem for you, whereas it'd probably suit Arlene fine..."

"And Jannalynn's cheaper than me," I finished for him. Who would have figured that working hard enough to get that raise would come back to bite me on the ass?

Sam didn't contradict me. He just sat there and looked at his desk. Guess there was nothing left to say.

It started to sink in. I thought about what it would be like; no paycheck coming in, no one caring if I got up in the morning, no benefits. Oh! My benefits!

They weren't great, but they were something and now they'd taken away my insurance and left me high up on a tightrope without a safety net.

I allowed myself a minute to mourn the loss of those benefits, and then I got mad. Real mad. "Sam, you look at me!" He looked up. "You can say whatever you want, but don't you dare tell me this is what's best for me, because it damn well isn't. This is what suits you and Mr Herveaux, and I'll take it, but don't make me thank you for it."

"Well, it ain't like that Sookie…"

"Yeah, it ain't like nothing, Sam. And nothing's all I'm gettin' from you now." We sat and glared at each other for a moment, and then Sam broke the silence and reverted back to being as professional as he could be.

"You get two weeks' notice, of course, but if you want to leave at the end of the day, I'll understand. We'll still pay you out."

I bit my tongue so I didn't say something snippy about how generous that was of the company. It simply wouldn't do any good. And you shouldn't burn all your bridges, should you?

"I'll give you a good reference," Sam said, his tone of voice switching from pure business back to something far more friendly.

I almost opened my mouth to plead with him to give me a job too, but I was too proud for that. I knew I'd done my best, I'd worked hard, and if that wasn't good enough for Sam and for Mr Herveaux, then making a fool of myself now wouldn't change it. I simply wasn't going to give them the satisfaction.

"I think I'd like to just pack up and leave," I announced, and Sam looked a little taken aback, but what was he going to do? Fire me? Yeah, too late for that. He'd just have put up with being a little short-handed for the rest of the day. Guess he should get used to that.

Sam nodded, and stood up, and I did the same. "OK," he said. "So, uh, if you could just hand over what you're doing…"

"Yep. Know the drill, Sam." I was a little curt, but I figured I had good reason to be.

I turned my back on Sam and walked out to the office. Behind me I could hear Sam's voice say "Arlene, can I see you in here for a moment?" Arlene looked from me to Sam and back again, her eyes wide and curious, but I didn't want to give anything away and I would not, _would not_, break down in front of anyone in this office.

I walked all the way to the ladies room and shed a few tears, which released some of the pent-up anger, frustration and sorrow I felt, and then I gave myself a good talking to, splashed some water on my face, and marched myself back to the office to do what needed to be done.

Arlene was still in Sam's office, the door closed. Jannalynn turned in her seat to look at me, although she didn't seem all that curious as to what was going on. "It won't be that bad," she said. Well, that was easy for her to say.

Wait. She knew?

I pushed that thought aside. What needs to be done, that was my priority. "I'm sure you'll be fine," I murmured, and then I set about pulling up the instructions I'd written on how to do my job in preparation for the trip I took to Dallas with Bill, to meet some friends of his. Of course the trip had proved to be not as much fun as I'd thought it would be, and mostly Bill had thought I was there for window-dressing, but at least I'd known that the work was getting done in my absence. Most of the work, anyway. Arlene seemed to have a mental block about following up for credit notes, but it wasn't anything I couldn't deal with when I got back.

Guess she'd have to get over that mental block, though.

I read over the instructions, made a couple of changes to bring them up to date, and then printed them out. Then I took a pad of paper out of my drawer and wrote up a list of all the things I was working on at the moment, and, at the bottom, I wrote _Check PackMaster bank account. Looks wrong._

I figured that covered it. There wasn't much more I could do, and it wasn't really my concern anymore. I just had to let it all go.

I went to stationery cupboard and got a box and started packing up my things. I put my Word of the Day calendar in there. I looked at my desk caddy and thought about it. No, that was mine too. I put it in the box.

I picked up the framed photo of me and Gran that Jason had taken at a Fourth of July picnic we'd all been to, a couple of years earlier. Gran was smiling, and squinting in the sun and I was wearing my favourite sundress and sporting a pretty good tan. I missed Gran.

I put the picture in the box and added a few other odds and ends. Tempting as it was to just empty my drawers and walk away with all the pens and pencils and legal pads I could carry, it just didn't seem the right impression to leave them with.

And then Arlene burst out of Sam's office. "Oh my Lord, Sookie!" she cried, as she ran over and enveloped me in a hug which I really didn't want. Not right then. But as tempting as it was to shrug her off, I couldn't. She meant well. And unlike Jannalynn, who'd been pointedly ignoring me and probably trying to distance herself from the stink of loser that I was now giving off, at least Arlene was acknowledging that things were pretty bleak for Sookie Stackhouse right at that moment.

"I don't know what I'll do without you!" Arlene cried, way too close to my ear. "Who will I have to talk to when things are crappy with my ex? Who's gonna care when Coby hits a home-run, or Lisa does well in her spelling test? Who's gonna keep me company? Oh, Sookie. I'll be so lonely!"

Or maybe not. I guess in Arlene's head, it was all about Arlene and my little misfortune didn't really get much of a look-see.

"Oh, I'm sure you'll be OK," I said to Arlene.

"No! No, I won't Sookie. I won't be the same without you around." She sniffed loudly and wiped at her eyes with the side of her hand. "And now my mascara's runnin'! God damn it all to hell." Arlene went to the drawer in her desk and pulled out her makeup bag and a little mirror, before sitting down to repair the damage. I felt like I should be grateful that me not being here was going to leave such a hole in the life of Arlene Fowler, but mostly all I felt was that me going was bad, but ruined makeup was a whole lot worse. And, maybe, I even felt just a tiny bit guilty for being the cause of the ruined makeup.

Well, that was helping take my mind of my own problems, that was for sure. Arlene was now muttering about misleading advertising and how she might just be forced to send Maybelline an email to explain exactly what waterproof meant.

I picked up my box. "Well, I guess…this is it…" Now the time had come to actually leave, I was having trouble making my feet take the necessary steps to get out the door. If I didn't actually go, then it wasn't real, was it? I could just sit back down at my desk, unpack my box of stuff, and pretend none of this nightmare had happened.

But then I looked over at Sam, and it was pretty damn clear it had happened. The look on his face said it all. "Well, good luck, Sookie," he said, standing there awkwardly, with his hands in his pants pockets. "Like Arlene said, we'll miss you…"

"It's like someone _died_," Arlene interjected, which was an over-statement if I'd ever heard one. And I'd heard a lot. I'd been sitting at this desk, opposite Arlene for a good three years now. "I am just _so_ sad, that I'm not sure how I'm gonna get any work done today." As if to show how incapable she was of achieving anything, she put her hands, still holding the little make-up mirror and the mascara wand, down on the desk.

"I'll miss it too…being here. With you all," I said. It was the God's honest truth.

"I'll send it out to you. Your paycheck. And the reference I promised you. I won't go back on my word," Sam said, like that would cancel out the fact he'd just betrayed me.

Well, no. That was a mite harsh. He'd just been doing it for the company, and for the Herveaux's, who owned the company, and…well, everyone except me. Guess some days you were just at the bottom of the heap and that was all there was to it.

Some days really sucked.

"See ya" Jannalynn said, curtly. I looked at her square on and I could almost hear her say the next words that were no doubt forming in her mind. _Wouldn't want to be ya._

Now there were a lot of things I could blame Jannalynn for, but not wanting to be me right about then, well, I couldn't blame anyone for that.

I moved my box to one side and slung my purse over my shoulder, and then took a step toward the door. At the same time Sam took a step forward, like he might hug me, or maybe just shake my hand, but then he must have thought better of that, because he stopped in his tracks, one foot still slightly in the air.

"I'll see you. All," I said, and then I hustled out the door and down the corridor towards the stairs. Breathe, I thought. Just breathe.

I was almost out the door to the parking lot, when Alcide caught up with me. "Can I help you with that?" he asked, holding out his arms for the box I was carrying.

"Sure," I said, handing it over. I wasn't above taking advantage of Alcide's guilty conscience.

He trailed me as I walked to my car. "I'm real sorry, Sookie. You'll be missed around here."

"Yeah, I know Alcide. But you're not sorry enough to get your daddy to keep me on now, are you?" I unlocked the door of my car, and turned to face him. "No, didn't think so. It's fine to flirt with me, fine to pretend I'm the next victim of your charm, but fight for me? No, that's a bridge too far. You're all the same." I held out my arms for the box, and Alcide handed it over.

"Sookie, I just…look. Let me explain..."

"No. I ain't interested." I leaned down and put the box on the passenger seat of the car.

"I just think…" Alcide was trying to say something to me, but I was at the end of my tether and I couldn't take anymore. I had just one word for him. "Git."

I walked around the car and opened up the driver's door before I climbed in and started the engine. In the rear-view mirror I could see Alcide walking back towards the store. He turned back to look at my car as I reversed out of the spot I'd parked in and exited the parking lot.

I turned down the street and felt as though I suddenly wasn't in my body anymore. It was a very strange feeling. I switched on the radio in the hope it would calm me, and Taylor Swift came on singing about how we were never, ever, ever getting back together.

Ordinarily, I loved that song. I'd sing along with Taylor, and I'd imagine what it would be like to say all those things to Bill and know that it was final, and I'd never have to hear his come-back to any of it.

But today it just reminded me of the fact that I'd lost something that morning, something I was never, ever getting back. It made me sad.

I switched off the radio.

The drive home wasn't any longer than usual, in fact it was pretty quick as traffic was light that time of the morning, but it seemed to be an age before I turned into my long driveway and felt the wheels of my car crunching over the gravel. Gravel that needed to be re-laid. Well, I didn't have the money for that now, did I?

I didn't have the money for a lot of things, and the sight of my old farm-house ahead sent me into a small panic as I thought about all the things that could go wrong. It wasn't just the insurance, and the taxes, it was all the maintenance that a property that old takes, it was the worry that if the plumbing went, or the roof got a leak, I would be left watching my one and only asset crumble into the ground.

I sat in the car and gripped the steering wheel, and then I forced myself inside the house. I needed a routine. I needed…something. I thought about a getting a beer out of the refrigerator, but it didn't seem like a good thing to start drinking before noon, even if these were exceptional circumstances.

I sat down at the kitchen table, with my box beside me, and I stared hard at the kitchen cupboards, forcing myself not sink any further into a depression. I wondered if I should clean something.

But then I heard the sound of another vehicle making its way up the driveway, and a moment later Jason's truck came into view around the side of the house.

"Why're you home?" he asked me, when he walked into the kitchen.

"Why're you here?" I replied, as he took a seat opposite me.

Jason shrugged. "We finished up early on a job…out near Betty Ford Elementary, and I thought I'd stop by and see if I could get that old grill from out of the shed out back. Figured you wouldn't have locked it." I wasn't sure if that was meant to be a criticism of my security measures or not. I stood up and poured two glasses of sweet tea from out of the refrigerator, put one in front of Jason, and sat back down with the other in front of me.

"So how come you are home, Sookie?" Jason asked me, as he glanced at the box.

"I've lost my job." It almost hurt to say the words out loud.

"Say what? How?"

I shrugged. "Re-structure…of the office, and what-not. You know." I gave Jason a little smile. "All of a sudden they just got more people than they need."

"Oh, well that ain't right, Sook." Jason frowned. "They really ain't right."

"No, but there ain't much I can do about it. They've done it fair and square…well, not fair, maybe, but they've done it how they should have."

Jason sat back and blew out a long breath. "Wow, Sookie. You seem awfully calm about this. You sure you ain't done somethin' that'd bring it on?"

"No! I can't believe you would even think that Jason!" That really hurt. It was one thing to have Jason suggest that I didn't take good enough care of my belongings, but to think that I'd brought about my own firing, well that just took the cake.

"Well, I don't know, Sookie," Jason said, sounding defensive. "One minute you're all 'oh, I'm doing so great at my job and they're going to make me a C.P.A' and the next you're sitting here, on a Friday morning, telling me you've lost the job. I can't figure it out."

"Well, don't bother even trying to add it up, Jason, if you keep getting five when you're adding two and two." We glared at each other.

"I just don't know how you can be so calm about it, is all," Jason said, a little sheepishly. "If it'd been me, you'da heard me hollering about it from three parishes over. No way should a loyal employee be treated like that."

I nodded, although I wasn't sure whether I was really agreeing to the fact that Jason would've made a big noise about it, or the fact that people shouldn't treat their employees like this. But it was unlikely to be a problem for Jason, he had a good job with the parish road crew and, so far, the likelihood he'd be laid off seemed low.

"So…ah," Jason looked serious. He finished his tea in one gulp and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "You gonna be all right?"

"All right?" Of course I wasn't, but I wasn't going to admit that to my brother.

"Yeah. You know…like with the financial stuff?"

As tempting as it was to tell Jason that I was deathly afraid I'd be eating through my little nest-egg if I didn't find another job almost immediately, I knew I couldn't put my burdens on him. "I'll be OK."

"Well…" I waited for Jason to make some kind of offer of assistance. "That's good to hear." Guess that was as good as I was going to get.

"I know."

"So…uh, better get that grill and head back before Hoyt and Catfish start wondering where I am." Hoyt Fortenberry was Jason's best friend and work colleague, Catfish Hennessey was their boss. I tried not to feel too jealous that Jason had somewhere to be and people who needed him to be there. I didn't do so well.

We walked out to the shed at the back of the house. "You know if things get real tight we can always go on _Fear Factor_."

I turned to look at Jason, who was grinning at me. "I ain't going on that show! No way am I eating a bull testicle or shaving my head just for $50,000!" I watched Jason's face change a little. Oh. "You weren't gonna give me half?"

"Well, Sook, I figured I'd be doing the real dangerous stuff in all…plus, you know, I need to change up my truck this year…"

"Really, Jason? Not even half?"

"Oh jeez, Sookie. You know I'd give you a fair share..." He stopped, and he looked back at the house and there was a long, silent moment between us. When Gran had died, she'd left the house to me, and me only. Jason, who was perfectly happily set-up in our parents' old home, which he'd been living in since he was 18 without ever giving me a dime, had been a little sore about that. Well, more than a little. There'd been some harsh words and it had taken a while for us to get back a sense of our old relationship after that, but we didn't have any other family, and we didn't want to fall out of sorts over money. I'd seen a lot of that happening in a small town like this, and so I'd made an effort to smooth things over and we mostly just agreed not to talk to about.

And today was no different. I was really prepared to let the whole subject of money drop today. "OK, let's get the grill," I said to Jason, and I opened up the shed door so Jason could go in and poke around. When he'd found what he wanted, and pulled it out into the sunlight, I pushed the door shut again.

"You really should lock that," Jason scolded.

"Foof. Jason, if anyone's fool enough to drive all the way up here, and poke through all the junk that several generations of us have accumulated in order to find anything worth stealing, then, quite frankly, I think they deserve something for their efforts. I should let them have at the attic while they're at it, save me the job of cleaning it out."

"Well, don't forget I might want some of what's up there," Jason grumbled.

"I won't," I promised.

Jason stowed the grill in the bed of his truck and then turned back to me. "I'm sure you'll be fine, Sookie. I mean, it does suck, losing your job. But I think you're like the most capable person I know. If anyone can get through this, then you can."

I sighed inwardly. I felt like Jason's confidence in me should have made me feel better, but, right then, I mostly wanted someone to commiserate with me, not set me a goal I was worried about failing. What if I didn't get another job? What if I lost the house? What would Jason think of me then?

If I showed any sign of those thoughts, then Jason was clearly oblivious. He jumped in the truck and drove off with a wave.

I trudged back inside and tried to find something to keep myself occupied. I did some laundry. I cleaned my bathroom. I vacuumed. I made myself a dinner of pork chops and coleslaw and tried to calculate how long my current groceries would last for.

I tried to watch _Jeopardy_, but I couldn't settle, and I couldn't concentrate on my book either. I took a walk.

I walked across the yard in front of my house, and through the trees that bordered the property, and ended up in the next door Sweet Home Cemetery. I wasn't even thinking about where I was headed, but I was in front of Gran's headstone before I knew it.

I knelt down, and traced the carving of her name with my finger. Adele Hale Stackhouse. I wondered where she was now, and whether she could hear me. Because I missed her. I missed her so much.

"Oh Gran. I sure wish you were here." I sniffed, loudly. It didn't really matter, after all. There was no one to hear me around here. "Gran, I'm scared about what's gonna happen, and I'm not sure I'm up to starting over, I'm really not. " I was crying now, and I didn't care. "Gran, it's just not the same without you here, because I have to tell myself it's gonna be OK, and I'm just not as good at it as you were."

I ached for Gran to hug me, and stroke my hair, and tell me that everything would work out and this was just one of life's many troubles that we all must pass through. I longed for someone to be on my side.

But it was just me, and that thought made me feel sad and empty and sick to my stomach.

I sat there as the sun started to set and I listened to the sounds all around me and tried to focus on the world outside my head. And then I realised I wasn't alone. There was someone else in the cemetery with me.

I turned and Bill was hovering on the edge of the tree-line, looking unsure about whether to come any closer. Yeah, I probably didn't look that good right about them. Possibly sitting on a grave crying their heart out wasn't how sane women spent their evenings.

"Are you all right, Sookie?" Bill asked. I looked at his face, at his dark eyes searching mine looking for clues. He looked worried, and I was sorry for worrying him. Despite everything we'd been through, I didn't wish him ill.

"I'm fine, Bill. Just a…just a bad day at work, is all."

I waited for Bill to ask me for more details, to press me for the full story as to what led me here to a patch of dirt in a graveyard. But he didn't. He nodded, and stayed where he was.

I wasn't altogether upset about that. Bill and I needed boundaries, and, for once, he was actually respecting them. As nice as it would be to throw myself into his arms and pour out all my troubles and let Bill scoop me up and carry me home and make it all better…I knew where that could lead. And while I could use the physical comfort of being with Bill to make me forget my troubles, I couldn't go backwards, I just couldn't. Losing my job couldn't be an excuse for my personal life getting more complicated than it needed to be.

"Well, good night Sookie. I truly hope you have a better day tomorrow. You deserve to be happy." He nodded, and then he turned and started to walk back to his house on the opposite side of the cemetery to mine.

And though we were never, ever, ever getting back together, it didn't feel too bad knowing that there was one other person in this world who cared about me.

I stood up, brushed myself down, and headed back home. Tomorrow was going to be a better day, and I would have a plan, and it would work out for me, because I deserved it.

At least that's what I told myself when I lay awake in the dead of night.

**Thanks for reading!**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N First up, my apologies for the last chapter. I think a lot of you ended up reading a version without my final corrections and author's note because somewhere along the line I missed hitting a save button. **

**And for those of you who made it through Sandy, I hope the clean-up is going well.**

**Disclaimer: I can't be trusted with anyone, I wouldn't leave them with me.**

The next morning, however, I was not up to making plans. I was not up to much of anything and it took me until near noon to rouse myself from my bed. For my breakfast I ate one too many cinnamon rolls which I washed down with two cups of coffee in an attempt to sharpen up the fuzzy edges of my brain.

I hoped a shower would help and I'd send at least a part of my sorrows down the drain, but all I succeeded in doing was using up a good portion of my hot water.

After my ablutions were over, and I had scrubbed and plucked and shaved all the surfaces of my body that required attention, I was at a loose end. I had already done my laundry the day before when I'd unexpectedly found myself at home. Now I was left with a Saturday to fill in.

I contemplated calling Tara, maybe seeing if she was free. JB worked every second Saturday and she was often glad of my company.

But I didn't feel like I'd be good company today, and I wasn't quite up to explaining the reason why.

So I was left with entertaining myself, and I had to make the best of it. I put on my bikini and I pulled out my favourite sun lounger and I set myself up at the side of the house with my head in the shade and the rest of me in the sun.

The warmth of the sun was soothing. And, after a while, I rested my book on my chest and I dozed. When I woke up though, I was hot and sweating and it didn't feel pleasant anymore.

I had a cool shower, and some dinner. I watched some TV. I read a book about a woman who has to pretend to be her boss's girlfriend when he attends a family wedding and then ends up falling in love with him for real. I wondered if Sam was going to miss me at work on Monday.

I went to bed.

On Sunday morning, I decided I needed a little help. I needed to be around some other people, and there was only one place I could be guaranteed to find a whole bunch of people on a Sunday morning, and that was at church.

I dressed carefully in one of my nicest dresses, and I even put on hose, although the temperature was much more conducive to bare skin. I picked out a lipstick in a subdued rose pink and I applied it carefully. I took a good long look at myself in the mirror, and was pleased with the overall effect. Most of all, I was pleased that I didn't look like a woman who was unemployed.

I almost had second thoughts as I approached the church itself. It was the same one I'd gone to every Sunday with Gran when she'd been alive and I hoped that being amongst people who knew me well would be a comfort. It was, or, at least, I stopped dwelling on my own troubles the moment Maxine Fortenberry cornered me in the small entranceway and told me all about the vexing time she was having with garden pests eating her roses.

Then I spent some time talking to Sid Matt Lancaster, who looked a little lonely since his wife Elva Deen had passed away, and I nodded to Halleigh and Andy Bellefleur before the service began and I could simply sit there and be. I listened to the sermon, I sang the hymns, I was part of the congregation and that was fine with me. I didn't have to be a woman who had a plan, a woman who was going places; I was just another member of this town. All in all, it was easy to be swept away and by the time the service was over I felt a little better about everything.

But then everyone started to drift away and leave the church. I walked back to my car and sat behind the wheel and thought about what I should do next. I didn't want to go home and spend another day by myself, and I really needed to get on to doing…well, something. Something positive.

Something that was going to get me a job, anyway.

I started towards Hummingbird Road, but I drove on past my own driveway, and right up to Bill's house. I was out of the car and knocking on his front door before I could talk myself out of being there.

Bill opened the door, and didn't seem surprised to see me. Or rather, if he was surprised, he hid it well. Sometimes it was hard to tell with Bill.

"Didn't see you at church this mornin'," I said, going for cheerful and slightly teasing as my opening offer.

Bill looked at me. "So you're here to check up on my spiritual well-being, Sookie?"

"I was just commenting."

"Hmm." Bill just kept looking at me.

"You gonna let me in?"

"Of course, Sookie. Where are my manners? Please, feel free to enter my humble abode." Bill stood aside and made a grand sweeping gesture with his hands and I stepped inside his really not humble at all abode.

Since Bill had inherited this house from his great-uncle Jessie Compton, he'd put a lot of time and money into restoring it, although there was still a lot of the upstairs that needed work. None of those rooms had been touched in a while now. I suspected, but was never going to ask outright, that Bill's funds were running low and that was why the work had slowed right down.

Bill's family were from around here, but he'd been brought up near New Orleans, and then gone to live in Seattle where he'd started up a computer company with some college friends. They'd specialised in creating something called on-line registries, which, from what I could gather when Bill had enthusiastically described it all to me, was a way to access databases on the internet, and quite handy for things like government departments who hold a lot of information. Anyway, the business had been successful and they'd sold up and Bill had taken his share and moved back here into the house he'd inherited thinking he could live off his investments.

But the world changed, and suddenly some of Bill's investments weren't worth so much anymore, and he was stuck with owning a strip mall that struggled to find tenants and a big old house that still needed some work. He managed to supplement his income both by taking on the odd IT job locally, which is how he'd ended up coming in to Herveaux's from time to time. He also had a database that he'd developed himself, something that helped anyone trying to trace their genealogy search through a bunch of old records and that was a big seller amongst the Descendants of the Glorious Dead and other interested parties.

So, all up, I thought Bill was doing pretty OK, if maybe not as well as he'd thought he would. Guess there were lots of us in that boat.

I walked into the foyer and then, with Bill trailing me, I walked into the living room without waiting for Bill to show me the way. Maybe it was a little presumptuous, but I couldn't go back and pretend I'd never been here before. It would have felt dishonest, and, at the end of the day, whatever friendship I might be able to have with Bill in the future wasn't going to work if we just tried to erase the past.

I sat on the floral sofa and waited for Bill to join me. I thought he might take the high-backed chair opposite me, but he didn't. He sat down next to me and looked me right in the eyes. "I'm glad to see you looking better than you did last time I saw you," Bill said, and I tried not to feel too embarrassed that he'd been witness to my breakdown by Gran's grave.

Luckily Bill didn't seem to be looking for me to provide an explanation for my behaviour, and he carried on. "So to what do I really owe the pleasure of your company?" he asked, way, way too smoothly for my liking, and then he took my hand in his and shifted a little closer to me.

He was going to have to cut that out, if this was going to work.

"Now, Bill," I said, as gently as I could. "You stop trying to seduce me, because that ain't why I've come calling on a Sunday morning." I pulled my hand back and Bill didn't put up any resistance to that. "You know things are different between us now, and we're not going back."

Bill gave me a sad smile. "Can't a man dream, Sookie?"

"Yes, but sometimes he just needs to keep those dreams to himself."

We sat in silence for a moment, and I wondered if Bill would try another line on me, but instead he seemed to shake himself clear of something and straighten up a little. "So what is it I can do for you, Miss Stackhouse?" he asked, with a smile on his lips as he addressed me so formally.

"Well, I need a little help." I wasn't too proud to ask.

"With…?"

"Um. Well, I guess I gotta start at the beginning. And it'll probably explain a few things about Friday night and why I was in the cemetery." I launched into my story, about how I'd just turned up at work and been told I wasn't needed anymore, and how awful I felt about the whole thing. Bill sat quietly and let me finish, which I was sorely grateful for. I just needed to get everything out before the tears came, and, as it was, my eyes misted up slightly.

I may not have wanted to be with Bill anymore, but that didn't mean I wanted him to think me weak and weepy.

When I'd finished with my tale, Bill sat for a moment and looked deep in thought. "So, they're downsizing?"

"I guess. I mean, Sam just said that there had to be cut-backs. And I was one of them." It was mighty hard not to feel sorry for myself when I said things like that. I wanted to be strong, I wanted to be someone who could overcome all her adversities, but, my goodness, it was hard when you were the sacrificial lamb.

"I guess things are tough all over," Bill mused, and I wondered for a moment if he was worried about his own work for Herveaux's and whether they'd have need of him anymore.

"I don't think they'll make Arlene take on the I.T. work, Bill," I said, and I meant it to be reassuring, but it seemed that my statement amused Bill because he chuckled. Still, at least I'd kept his mind off his worries.

"So my help? I'm afraid I can't offer you any work, Sookie."

"Oh, no. I realise that." And I couldn't see working with Bill being a great idea anyway. "But I need a resume, and I don't really know where to start…"

"So, you want me to help with that?"

"I do. And if you have any ideas about looking for work on the internet, I'd be mighty grateful for that too." When I'd originally applied for the first job I had had at Herveaux's, it had been advertised in a local paper, but the world had moved on since then and I hadn't had to utilise the on-line job-market or whatever you wanted to call it.

"You'll have to market yourself," Bill said, leaning back against the sofa.

"Excuse me?"

"Sell yourself." That sounded even worse. "In this economy you can't afford to just hope someone notices you, Sookie. You've got to stand out."

"Oh." While that might not be what I had imagined, it still didn't sit right. What was wrong with just being part of the crowd? It had felt OK when I'd been at church that morning.

Bill gave me a kindly, but maybe slightly patronising look. 'What you've got to realise, Sookie, is that while you're special to a lot of people, to most employers you're no different than a hundred other girls."

"Women."

"Whatever term you want to use. Thing is, Sookie, there's a huge glut of people looking for work and you've got to…I don't know. You've got to give the employers some way of picking you out of all of the other applicants."

I thought about that. I remembered when the Wal-Mart had opened up, how the lines for jobs had been around the block. I remembered Maudette Pickens and how disappointed she'd been not to get a job there, even though, as she put it, she had plenty of retail experience.

I felt a little disheartened about everything now.

"But I'm sure we can find a way to do it," Bill said, encouragingly. "I'm certain you have many marketable attributes."

"Eyes up, Bill." Those were attributes I was not prepared to market.

Bill gave me an exasperated look. "Now, you know I think more of you than that, Sookie."

Well, I felt like I ought to, but there had been times, times, like say, the trip to Dallas when Bill had been making 'suggestions' about how I might like to dress to meet his friends, when I honest to God wasn't one hundred per cent sure.

When I didn't say anything further, Bill gave up. He clapped his hands against his thighs and stood up. "Guess we should make a start, then."

"Yep. Guess we should."

I followed Bill out of the living room and towards the room he used as his office. It was dominated by a large, L-shaped desk that was set into a corner and absolutely covered with computers, and printers and a bunch of things I couldn't name.

Bill pulled out his office chair and offered it to me, and then disappeared from the room, returning a moment later with one of the dining room chairs. He sat in that himself and then he jiggled a computer mouse to bring the large, flat-screen monitor in front of us to life.

I glanced over at Bill nervously. I'd used up all my courage to get myself here and now I wasn't sure I'd done the right thing. Was I just going to be relying on Bill to get me out of a scrape?

But once we got going, Bill was very professional about the whole thing, and, more importantly, happy to take a back-seat and let me decide how things were going to go. We spent a good long while on my resume, working out the best way to set it out, and all the things I should list on there. Bill kept asking me to go over all the things I'd done, and it was surprising the sheer number of different tasks I could complete, the different jobs I'd done when someone needed to fill in, the extra pieces of work I'd taken on just to help Sam out. It wasn't until someone asked you to spell out how you'd spent the last few years that you started to realise just what you'd learnt.

So apart from a little friction when Bill thought I shouldn't try to put everything in the fancy font I liked, the resume writing session went OK. After that Bill took me through a few websites which listed jobs, and we created my profile and uploaded my newly created resume. Finally we looked up a few companies, ones based near Bon Temps, which might have need of a temporary office worker, and we emailed my resume to their H.R. departments.

By the time I was ready to leave, the morning had long passed and I was feeling like I'd done a good day's work. I had a plan, I had a stack of printed resumes and a copy saved on a CD that Bill gave me, and, most importantly, I had hope that things were going to be better.

"Well, thanks so much, Bill!" I said, as I stood up to leave with my little stack of resumes in my arms. "I couldn't have done this without you."

"Any time, Sookie. Any time." Bill stood up as well, and then we both hesitated for a moment, facing each other. It would be so easy to just let all the good will I felt for Bill in that moment bubble over into something else. I could stay here for the afternoon, we could have supper together, go for a walk, go to bed…I could imagine it all happening. I almost wanted it.

But we were never, ever, ever getting back together. I knew that. Bill would eventually figure that out. I couldn't let his kindnesses and my loneliness lead me down the wrong path.

"I better get going. I got stuff to do." I turned and walked out of the office, and back towards the foyer. Bill walked behind me.

At the front door, I turned around to face him. "Thanks again." I wasn't going to let my desire to get out of there over-ride my manners. "It's been…well. It's been real nice having some help…for a while."

I waited to see if Bill was going to suggest he could be helpful on a more regular basis, but instead he just nodded and shrugged. "I'm always happy to help," he said.

"I know." I was about to start down the porch steps when Bill leaned down and kissed me, lightly, on the cheek. The kiss was over in an instant, and he stepped back inside the house and started to shut the door, saying goodbye as he did so.

Well. I turned and walked off the porch and all the way to my car, before getting in and starting the drive home, my mind still on Bill.

On paper, we should have been perfect together. Well, on paper, Bill was the most eligible bachelor in the whole of Bon Temps, and I should have been grateful he was interested in me. After all, he had women like that realtor, Selah Pumphrey, ready to drop everything to be with him. I couldn't be so naïve as to think that he was interested in me for any reason other than the fact I'd said no to him, and he couldn't fathom why I was the hold-out.

But I wasn't prepared to settle, and that included settling for Bon Temps' most eligible bachelor simply because he was nice to me. He'd always been nice to me, but he simply wasn't the right guy for me, nice or otherwise.

By the time I got home, I was ready to put Bill out of my mind, and when Monday dawned, I was on to bigger and better things. My plan for the day was to drive into Shreveport and drop my resume into any place I thought I might be able to get a position: banks, accountant's offices, the big stores. I'd talked over this strategy with Bill and he'd said that a lot of jobs just didn't get advertised these days; people snapped them up before it even got that far. Unless I got my resume in front of people I might miss out on something great.

And so I drove around Shreveport, using a list I'd compiled on Sunday night from the phone book, and spoke to person after person who assured me that no, there was nothing going, and if anything, they were hoping that some of their staff left soon and they wouldn't have to pay them anymore. OK, so maybe that last part was simply me reading between the lines of what was being said, but I think the message was loud and clear. I was going to be lucky to get anything in this economy.

Well, maybe I could be lucky? Someone had to be, didn't they? I tried to tell myself that on the way back to my car, feeling foot-sore and a little down-cast. My mood didn't improve on my drive back to Bon Temps. First, I had to stop to fill my car with gas, leading me down the path of worrying whether my job seeking trip had actually cost me money I couldn't afford, and then I was nearly run off the road by a red Corvette which came speeding past me far faster than it should have.

I said a few choice words in the direction of the dust cloud that was fast disappearing over the horizon and hoped the driver had a close encounter with someone in law enforcement. Preferably before they arrived at their next destination.

Imagining such an encounter taking place gave me something to pass the rest of the time on my journey home, and, when I retrieved my mail from the mailbox at the end of my driveway, I had something else entirely.

It was a large, white envelope, stamped with the Herveaux and Son logo. I sat at the kitchen table and ripped it open, pulling out some sheets of paper and another, smaller envelope.

The papers all contained the details of the pay-out I would receive as per the terms of my employment contract, in addition to my final pay check, which was also enclosed. I checked their calculations, and then I did my own math, trying to see how long that amount would last me.

Then I looked at the other sheet of paper. It was a letter thanking me for my service with the company. Signed by Alcide Herveaux.

Not Jackson Herveaux.

Moreover, the title underneath Alcide's name now said General Manager, not Sales Manager. I wondered when that had changed. There hadn't been an announcement when I'd been there, but maybe it was just one of those succession planning things. I gave up worrying about it. That store, and the people in it, really weren't my concern anymore.

Finally I opened the second envelope, and found the reference Sam had written for me. I forced myself to read it, even though it was painful to do so. If Sam thought so highly of me, then how could he do this to me? I wanted to understand, to think of it as a business decision and not a personal attack, but it was still too raw and painful.

I put the reference and the other documents away in the drawer of the sideboard in the living room and then the phone rang. It was Jason.

"How are you?" he asked.

"I'm OK." I sounded a little suspicious. I was. Jason very rarely called for no reason.

"So…today's been OK?"

"Yeah. I've been in Shreveport. Marketing myself."

"Oh, Sookie. I don't think things are quite that bad…"

"Giving out resumes, Jason. I ain't quite sunk that low yet."

"Oh." There was silence for a moment. I wanted to ask why he'd called me, but it would be rude. After a while Jason said "Well, as long as you're OK then."

"I'm not about to do anything drastic."

"No…I know. It's just…I ain't got anybody else, Sookie." For the first time in a long time it occurred to me that if I was lonely, maybe Jason was too. He might have every girl in the parish swooning over him, but he didn't have a lot of family either.

"I'll be OK, Jason."

"Yeah. Yeah, you will, won't you Sookie?"

"Goodbye, Jason."

"'Bye, Sookie."

I hung up the phone and realised that now I was worried about Jason. I hoped that one day he would find a nice girl and settle down and give me some nieces and nephews I could spoil. Providing I had a job, of course.

It was starting to become clear that everything was going to come back to that. And while I didn't want to put my life on hold for something that was only partially in my control, I had to face the fact that everything in my life was going to change while I was unemployed.

Gosh, that was a word I didn't like having applied to myself.

The phone rang again just as I was starting to make myself dinner. "Oh, you're there! Good! What happened, Sookie?" Tara asked, as soon as I answered.

"Happened?"

"I sent you an email today, and I got this response that you didn't work there anymore. And then I called your cell, and you didn't answer…so I didn't know what was going on." She sounded exasperated and I had a sudden realisation that Tara, who'd been forced to stay at home when her store closed, may have been living vicariously through me. Just a little.

I sighed. I didn't need to feel responsible for another person, not when I had my own troubles. "I, uh…I got down-sized. And I forgot my phone today."

"What?"

And then I had to go over the whole story. Again. Tara at least was an appreciative audience, and quickly warmed to the drama, making suitable gasps and re-iterating that she couldn't believe it had happened to me.

"Well, it has," I confirmed.

"That sucks," Tara commiserated.

"Yeah, it really does." It was actually nice to talk to someone who got it.

"At least we got our dance class to look forward to. You gonna meet me there? Six o'clock, on Wednesday?"

Oh. Was I? Well…I suppose I had no reason I couldn't go to the library during the day now. At least the library was still free. I wondered how much the classes cost.

"We can try the first class for free," Tara said, answering that question for me. "After that, I think we pay by the class or there's some kind of concession you can buy. Anyway, one ain't gonna hurt us, is it?"

Probably not. And I guess I should be looking for things to get me out of the house, after all. I didn't want to be Tara, hanging on every detail of someone else's life. "What should I wear?" I asked her.

"Oh, something comfortable. That you can move in. You know. Exercise stuff."

"Oh. OK." I'd have to check my wardrobe. Unlike Tara, I didn't have an outfit for every occasion.

In the end, when Wednesday came around, and I was, indeed, happy to be leaving the house, I settled on some black, cropped yoga pants I got in a sale at Target, and a tank top in a nice sky blue, over the top of which you could just see a tiny amount of the lace from my black bra. I considered whether that looked a bit too, well, slutty, but figured it was a burlesque class after all, and a certain amount of glamour might be appreciated. After all, I wanted to look like I'd made an effort, not just that I'd turned up in my gardening clothes hoping for a free night out.

I parked around back of the dance studio and, by the time I got to the front door, Tara was there waiting for me. "Where'd you park?" I asked, out of curiosity.

"Oh. I walked here. It's a nice evening." Tara did look a little flushed; now I looked at her closely. I wondered how Tara was finding the price of gas these days, I couldn't remember her walking anywhere much. Not since she'd learnt to drive. "Well," she said. "Shall we go in?"

"I guess." I looked at the door of the studio. There was a big sign on the front, in pink glitter letters and with shiny pink balloons attached to it which read _Fairy Ballet with Miss Claudine_. "Do you think she's finished that class yet?" I wasn't sure I wanted to be trampled to death by a bunch of departing fairies.

"Oh, go on. It'll be cute," Tara assured me, before she turned and pushed the door open. I followed her inside.

Sure enough, in the studio were half a dozen small girls in a variety of tutus and princess dresses, who seemed to be practicing skipping in a circle while flapping their arms. Seated on some plastic chairs at the back of the studio, were the moms, who were smiling and watching their tiny offspring as they jostled for position behind the tall, dark haired woman leading them.

It was hard to blame them. She was gorgeous, possibly the most beautiful person I'd ever seen in real life. I wondered if she was taking our class, too.

Tara took a seat next to one of the women and started a conversation. "You remember, McKenna?" Tara asked me. "She used to work for me?"

"Oh, yes. Um, which one, uh, girl is yours?" McKenna pointed to one of the pink blobs of tulle. I nodded politely and murmured my admiration. It seemed like the right thing to do under the circumstances, although I didn't have a lot of experience of children. There was only Hunter, my cousin Hadley's son, in our family, and he didn't come around much.

"Think this'll be us one day?" Tara whispered to me conspiratorially.

"Um…" I really wasn't sure. It might be Tara, but I wasn't sure it was me. At least, not yet, anyway. First I wanted to do something that was all about me, before I ended up only doing things that were all about watching someone else.

The class finished and Miss Claudine gave all the little fairies stickers to wear home and high-fived them for their…well, I didn't know. Fairy-ness, maybe.

And after all the little girls trooped out and the noise level dropped, the teacher disappeared out of the studio, rubbing her neck with a towel, and Tara and I were left waiting.

While we were sitting there a few other people came in. Dawn Green was one of them; she looked me up and down. I noticed she'd worn high heels. I wondered if that would have been a better choice than my sneakers.

And then the teacher re-appeared. She'd changed, but I was pleased to see she hadn't opted for heels. Possibly because she was almost six foot tall as it was. She was wearing much the same kind of outfit as Tara and I, but with proper soft dance shoes on her feet. She tightened the high pony-tail she'd pulled her long, wavy hair into, and she clapped her hands. "Great to see you all here!" she said, and she smiled, and for some reason, I felt that it was great to be here.

"So if you want to all find a place we'll begin." The assembled women shuffled around trying to avoid being too near the front, too near the back, too close to each other, and too far away from the rest of the group. It took some doing, and we made the fairies from the previous class look like seasoned professionals.

"OK, so welcome to burlesque! I'm Claudine, and I'm so happy you all showed up here tonight. Has anyone done burlesque before?" There was silence and no hands went up. "Anyone danced at all before?" A few hands went up, including Tara's. "Put yours up, Sookie!" she hissed at me. I did, but only half-way. I wasn't really sure our school talent show dance routine really did count.

"Well, don't worry," Claudine reassured us. "This is a beginner's class, we'll go slowly, and by the end of it, you'll be all be ready to strut your stuff with the best of them!" There were a few murmurs at that statement. "Now just remember this is burlesque," Claudine carried on, "Not stripping. This is more about…well. Displaying the body attractively, rather than just showing skin. Think sexiness, not raunchiness."

At the back of the room, a plump girl of about twenty stuck up her hand. "So we ain't gonna learn the pole-dancing?"

"No. No poles," Claudine replied, and the girl looked a bit disgruntled.

"OK, so some housekeeping." Claudine explained how the class was going to run, how much she charged for the lessons, and a few other necessary things like where the bathrooms were in the building. "And now, I'll put on some music and we'll practice walking."

I thought I had walking down pat already. I very rarely got it wrong, in fact. Turns out, though, I hadn't spent enough time practicing sexy walking, which was what Claudine had us doing. We strutted across the room, we strutted back. We watched ourselves in the mirror. We tried walking toe-heel, instead of heel-toe. We practised swinging our arms while we walked and putting our arms on our hips.

Who knew there was quite so much involved in just getting from point A to point B? "Don't rush it," Claudine called out. "Remember this is all about getting all eyes on you, even when you're just walking." Claudine demonstrated by walking slowing around a chair, and sitting on it with her legs crossed.

She was right, if you did it the right way, you really couldn't take your eyes off the person.

After walking we moved on to hip swaying, which made some of the women giggle a little. We swayed right, we swayed left, and we dipped and swayed and stuck out our butts.

Then it was body rolls. That was a little trickier; trying to get your whole torso to move at the same time and look co-ordinated and sexy mostly resulted in a lot of jerking around from the students. "You might find it easier to stand against a wall," Claudine advised. "Remember; start with the bust and roll it down through your tummy, and then hips and butt."

"This is hard!" Tara hissed at me, as she faced a wall of the studio and stuck out her chest, then kind of bent her knees and threw her butt out. It wasn't all that graceful. "This was a lot easier when we were teenagers," she sighed.

"Yeah," I agreed, although I was actually enjoying myself. I didn't care if I looked like a loon; I was going to get this move if it killed me. And then I nailed it, I rolled my body and I didn't look half-bad doing it if I said so myself.

"Great job!" Claudine's voice said next to me. "Now, try stepping away from the wall a little, and stand side-on so you can see what you're doing." I did as she suggested.

"You've got a great look…" Claudine said, looking at my face. "Sookie," I supplied.

"Sookie." Claudine smiled and looked radiant. If she'd asked me, I might have put on a pink tutu and skipped after her too. "I think you're going to be great at this, Sookie. You've done real well tonight." And then she moved on to the next person, to help them.

I smiled to myself, and I did another body-roll, followed by a little hip sway with a dip. Maybe things weren't as bleak as I'd thought they were. I was out of the house, and I was learning another skill…just maybe not one I'd list on my resume.

Now all I needed was a job.

**Thanks for reading!**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N Phew! This took a while, but we got there in the end. I'm still blown away by how many of you are enjoying this story. Thank you for all your support - it keeps me going.**

**Disclaimer: Not mine.**

My burlesque classes quickly became the highlight of my entire week. Certainly they helped keep my mind off the disappointment of not finding a job as quickly as I hoped I would. When I'd written up that resume with Bill I'd almost believed that no one could possibly turn me down but now, it certainly seemed like they could. And they did. With alarming frequency.

I heard from Everlee Mason, who could always be relied on to have the most up to date news in Bon Temps, that they were looking for a new clerk at the sheriff's office, but when I fronted up to talk to the sheriff, Bud Dearborn, he said they'd already filled the position and Holly Cleary had agreed to do it.

Now I didn't wish Holly any ill-will. We'd worked together at the old Monroe branch of Herveaux Fine Furnishings, and I knew that with a son to take care of and a wedding to Hoyt Fortenberry to plan, she could do with all the help she could get.

But I still felt a little sore about it. Especially when I caught Detective Andy Bellefleur looking at me with pity. Well, screw him.

Another time, when I was in line at the Super Save a Bunch, getting some discount shampoo and knowing it just wasn't going to be as good as my usual kind, I heard from Marcia Albanese that Christy Aubert was taking time out from working with her husband to get her cake-making business underway. I seriously doubted that anyone in Bon Temps was going to start buying $5 cupcakes, but I wasn't about to turn down an opportunity when I saw one.

Only when I called Greg to inquire, he said he already had someone helping him out. He did at least sound like he regretted it.

I tried to put it out of my mind, and, certainly, when I was at my dance class, I wasn't thinking about much else other than the instructions Claudine was giving us.

"Chin on hands and kick your legs…one, two, three, four. Roll over, and up to your knees…kitty paws…hands on knees and don't be afraid to push that booty out…now, slide your palms down your legs, and back up…then stand up. Good. Now, figure eight with your hips – right front, left front, three, four, and again…cross foot, turn, right arm out, left arm on top and pull it back. Look over your shoulder. Right arm over your head and onto your hip…and, saucy look at the audience."

The steps were one thing, getting your body in the right position, remembering where each arm and foot went. I was OK at all of that, and most of our routines weren't that fast anyway, so keeping up wasn't a huge problem, but the saucy looks, they were something else.

Claudine tried encouraging us to create our own personas when we danced. "You could be sassy, or sexy…maybe a little naughty, throw in a wink here and there. Or a little shy, and use your hands in front of your face, like this." Claudine covered her mouth with the fingers of her hands. "Anything you want to be…and then you sell your audience that's that who you are…you don't have to be you on-stage, you can be anyone you want."

I overheard Delia Shurtliff whisper to Lindsey Popken, "Tonight my persona is 'woman happy to be out of the house'."

Well, I was too, although maybe not because looking after three growing step-sons is an exhausting job that you get little thanks for. My reasons for being here might have been different to Delia's, but the result was the same. I was glad to be out with other people who didn't look at me like I was a poor wretch just because I'd asked them for a job. After your first few attempts at that, it was hard not to feel like a beggar.

But if getting out and looking for work was tough, then spending the hours at home was even tougher. My own company started to pall a little and I ran out of jobs around the house. There wasn't much to do but sit and sweat in the oppressive heat knowing that even if I'd had air-conditioning, I wouldn't have been running it for fear of the electricity bills I'd be stuck with.

I never thought that one of the things I'd miss about working would be the air-conditioning.

The other thing I missed was the company. Even Arlene's gossiping and constant complaints about her mother, her kids and her parade of ex-husbands and boyfriends would have been a welcome change on most days. I might have even settled for Jannalynn scowling and muttering in the corner when things got really tough.

I refused to miss Sam, though. He'd made it clear where he stood, and I was…I wasn't sure what I was doing. But I wasn't missing him, anyhow.

One afternoon I got kind of desperate and took myself off for a walk through the cemetery, looking for some relief from the heat in the shade of the trees. At least, that's what I started off telling myself. By the time I got to Bill's front porch I was working with the idea that I'd come over to thank him for his help with my resume.

"Oh. Sookie," he said, when he opened up the front door. "You're…um, here."

"I am," I agreed, pushing a rather damp tendril of hair off my face. I smiled at Bill. He smiled back. See? We could do this, we could be neighbourly.

And then I heard a voice. I wasn't Bill's only visitor.

Oh.

"Um. You're busy…I'll just…I'll…," I started to back down the steps to the porch.

"No, Sookie. Please." Bill held out his arm and pointed back into the house with it. "Come in. I was just showing Portia the dining room and how it looks now it's finished. She helped picked some of the furniture."

Oh. I wasn't sure if that was better or worse than springing Bill and Selah Pumphrey in a potential session of afternoon delight. Portia Bellefleur wasn't the person I most wanted to see right now. Especially not when I was hot and sweaty and wearing my not particularly fancy shorts and a t-shirt. After all, there wasn't much point getting dressed up just to sit around my house, was there?

But if I made up an excuse to leave now, it was going to be obvious that it was an excuse because I'd managed to get myself all the way to Bill's front door without previously remembering that I'd left my iron on or had to wash my hair, or even that I was expecting a delivery of something vitally important to my continued well-being. No, I'd have to go through with it.

"Sure. That would be great Bill. I would love to see how it looks now it's finished." I stepped through the door and followed Bill into the foyer and through to the dining room, which had previously been some kind of separate room off the kitchen. Bill had re-purposed it as the dining room when he'd taken the original dining room as his office. As it wasn't an essential room he had taken a while to have the work finished, but now, I guess, it was done.

"Oh. Hello, Sookie. I didn't realise you were stopping by," Portia said, as I walked into the room.

"Good afternoon, Portia. It's lovely to see you, too," I said. It wasn't. "I just called in to thank Bill for all the help he's given me with my resume."

"Yes. I heard about your…troubles." Portia managed to make 'troubles' sound as though it was something I'd brought all on myself by being silly, or forgetful, or just plain old stupid.

There wasn't much I could say in my defence. Portia was a lawyer, and a fairly successful one at that. She was unlikely to be out of work any time in the near future.

I decided to change the subject. "The room looks lovely, Bill. I particularly like the, uh…wallpaper." I wasn't sure about the wallpaper, but it went with the period look of the room, all heavy, dark, antique furniture and muted lighting.

"We used something similar at Belle Rive," Portia announced. "In some of the smaller bedrooms upstairs." Portia glanced around her, Bill nodded formally, I shifted from foot to foot feeling grubby and out of place.

Sadly, these weren't new feelings for me when faced with Portia. It might not have been so bad if she hadn't been related to Bill. They were distant relations, sure, but that didn't mean a lot around here. The important thing was that, some generations back, a Compton had married a Holliday and their offspring had married a Bellefleur and now Bill was stuck with Portia.

Although he wasn't all that unhappy about that. At least, that was how I read it. When Bill had come to Bon Temps he'd researched the history of his house, and, in uncovering a family bible, he'd found the family connection.

Caroline Bellefleur, the matriarch who presided over Bon Temps' grandest house, Belle Rive, had been more than happy to accept Bill into the fold, and her grand-children, Portia and Andy, had fallen into line. It just got a little bit more difficult for them to accept me, or, rather, they didn't go out of their way to make me feel welcome.

Every time we'd visited Belle Rive I'd felt like the poor relation who could only marvel at the way her betters lived. I'd hoped Bill would make more of an effort to include me. After all, he was the one who was bringing me along as his date. But he didn't.

And then he started to exclude me altogether. Now, I know nothing about opera, and I certainly have never been to see one. But that doesn't mean I wouldn't like to see it, just once, just to say that I have.

But Bill thought nothing of going without me. And, moreover, he seemed shocked and surprised that I might even think that he should have included me in the outing. And when he started to act annoyed that I'd brought it up, and, perhaps, just a little hurt at all the accusations I was throwing at him, I knew one thing.

It was never going to work out between me and Bill Compton.

"I like the shawl, Bill," I said, pointing to a beautiful fringed shawl that had been laid on the table. "It looks real nice in here."

"Portia suggested that," Bill said, glancing at Portia who simpered slightly under his gaze. "When we saw the table at Splendide in Shreveport I thought it might dominate the room, but Portia suggested we use something to tie it in with the wallpaper."

"Uh-huh. Well, you know if you keep buying up antiques, Bill, you're gonna put real furniture stores out of business." It was something I'd said jokingly a few times to Bill. Only this time it wasn't so funny, and we were all quiet while we stared at the table awkwardly.

"You know, Sookie," Portia began, after a few moments. "If you want someone to look at your case, I have a few colleagues who'd be more than happy to see you."

Oh. Case? I frowned and thought about it. "Unfair dismissal," Portia clarified. "With that place, you worked for. I'm sure you weren't incompetent." Well, she sure made it sound like that's what she thought, but never mind, I knew I wasn't. I also knew that I wasn't going to take a case against my employers…ex-employers. I just…well, that wasn't me.

"Thanks, Portia. If I…if I decide to look into that, I'll be sure to check in with you. Get some advice." That answer pleased Portia, and she beamed at me. Bill gave me a small frown, but I ignored him.

"Well, I'd best be going. I have another client at…," Portia checked her expensive gold watch. "In forty minutes. I need to review their file." The way she said 'review their file' made it sound as though she was going off to save the world. I might not know much about being a lawyer, but even I could tell that people's wills and mortgages and petty disputes weren't all that important to anyone but the people directly involved.

I said goodbye to Portia and she, very insincerely, wished me well and hoped to see me again I. I, almost as insincerely, echoed those statements.

Bill escorted Portia to the front door and I stood in the dining room, wondering whether I should leave too. When he came back he shook his head at me. "You know, you should take what she says with a grain of salt, Sookie."

I nodded in agreement. I knew that whatever she thought of me, it didn't really make any difference to who I was and what I was capable of…oh, what? Bill was saying something else now. "I know she thinks litigation is the answer to everything, but in a small place like this, I'd be real careful about who exactly you choose to take on in the court-room. Not to mention the cost of the case. You don't want to burden yourself with a debt when you might not win."

OK. Way to go, Bill. Nothing like telling me what I'd already figured out for myself. He fixed me with a kindly smile and I half-expected him to pat me on the head to boot. I sighed, and bit my tongue. It wasn't the first time we'd reached this point in a conversation and me pointing out to Bill that he wasn't really helping just came across as me being petty and ungrateful. At least, it did to Bill. No good could come of me starting a fight in Bill's glossy new dining room.

"I think we agree on that," I said, and then I took one last look around the room. "Well, I better get going."

"Oh. You have…something on?" Bill sounded surprised.

"Well, there's job-hunting to be done!" I tried to make it sound as though that didn't really bother me. Not sure how successful I was. "And I got dance class."

"Dancing?"

"Yeah, at the studio. It's been re-opened. I'm doing that…"

"Stripping class?" Bill asked.

"It's burlesque, Bill. And how'd you know about that, anyway?"

"Oh. Just something Portia said." Bill looked at me, his dark eyes narrowed. "You're not going to dance on stage, are you?"

It was tempting to say I was, or ask why it was any of his business anyhow, but instead I said "No, I'm just doing it for fun."

"Well, you probably deserve some fun," Bill conceded. Damn right I did.

That night we were working with chairs. It sounds easier than it is. Especially when you have to kick your leg over them. "My leg doesn't go that high," Tara complained. "Why doesn't my leg go that high?"

I ignored Tara and carried on listening to Claudine's instructions. I watched as she sat on the chair with it facing backwards and threw herself forwards over one leg, before coming back up again. "And this is where I like to use my hair," she said, taking her long, dark hair out of its topknot and doing the move again. It did look kind of dramatic with the hair being flicked around.

I looked around, and then took my ponytail out before copying Claudine's moves. "See? That looks great, Sookie," Claudine commented.

"Teacher's pet," Tara hissed, but she didn't sound mean when she said it. She was just teasing.

And then I heard someone opening the door at the back of the studio. "Am I too late for the class?" a voice asked, and I turned, kind of awkwardly because I was still sitting backwards in a chair, and saw a woman with short brown hair and blue eyes standing there. She was wearing a set of exercise clothes that matched perfectly, the piping down her yoga pants in the same purple as her tank top, and the laces on her sneakers.

"No, you're fine," Claudine said. "Just come on up here and find a chair."

There was a break while the newcomer dumped her purse and dragged a chair over to where I was sitting. "Hi!" she said perkily. "I'm Amelia. So…we're just sitting here?"

I just had time to reply that I was Sookie when Claudine started the music up again, and we went over our moves one more time. Amelia was too busy trying to keep up to talk to me anymore and I was pretty busy too, trying to get it right, trying to make my body do what Claudine's did, trying to remember who I was meant to be on stage.

Well, I was still me, but maybe a slightly more exciting version of me. One that everyone wanted to watch dance, anyway.

After class we said goodbye to Claudine and Tara and I walked out to the parking lot. Amelia walked past us and waved "See you next week!" she said brightly, although I doubted her ability to stick at it. We'd had a few drop-outs and Amelia struck me as someone who'd perhaps be happier at home with her husband and her children.

"So, how's it going?" Tara asked me.

"What? Looking for a job?" Tara nodded. "It's, um…well, I ain't had much luck yet." That was an understatement. I'd really thought I would get something after a couple of weeks, but even another trip into Shreveport hadn't yielded any leads. I was still managing to get out of bed in the mornings, but I was starting to find the days hard to fill.

"Well, something'll come up."

"I hope so. I feel like I just about asked everybody in town now and I'm plum outta ideas. I really did think something would come up before now."

Tara gave me a sympathetic look, and then her head turned as she followed a car moving slowly down the street. "You know, she shouldn't be driving."

"Who?" I looked at the car. "Jane Bodehouse? Surely it ain't so bad now they closed the bar down." There'd been a couple of bars, but the one close to town had long ago shut and the one out near the interstate had been through a couple of owners now. They didn't stick around.

"It's been re-opened," Tara announced.

"What? Vic's Redneck Roadhouse?"

"Yup. New owner." Tara looked pleased to have news that I didn't. I sighed. How come I got to hear about the wallpaper at Belle Rive and Tara got the interesting stuff?

"Has to be better than the last owner." No one had much liked Victor Madden, and I was pretty sure he hadn't like any of us either. "But you're right; it's a worry if Jane's back on the roads again."

Tara shrugged. "Still, it's proof that sometimes even small prayers get answered." She looked at me and I got the feeling she wanted to say something else, but what was there to say at this point?

And things weren't much better a week later. By this time I was feeling down in the dumps about the whole enterprise and fairly certain I'd become just a hermit woman in the woods before too long. Kids in the town would hear tales about me and, at Halloween, they'd dare each other to go down Hummingbird Road and visit the old crone in the decrepit house who might just turn them into frogs for their trouble.

I wasn't in much of a mind to talk to anyone and Tara wasn't there anyway, having cried off the lesson due to a vague list of symptoms that, apparently, prevented her from leaving the house. But I hadn't counted on Amelia being there again. "You're great at this," she said to me, as we practiced walking around our chairs before leaning over them and pushing our heels up and down so our butts stuck out.

"Thanks," I said.

"You have the right look." I looked at Amelia to see if she was genuine and she certainly seemed that way.

"Thanks," I said again.

When class was over, Amelia turned to me. "Want to go for coffee? There is a place to go for coffee around here, isn't there?"

"Um…sure. We could go to the Crawdad Diner." It had been a Bon Temps institution for forever, and was about the one thing in town time hadn't changed or shut down.

"Great!" Amelia said. I wondered if she was always this happy about everything, or if she did think I was going to be that great company. I was slightly concerned about letting her down.

"So…you're new around here?" I asked her, as we sat in a booth and sipped our coffees.

"Sure am. I'm from New Orleans, originally, but I moved around a bit and I've been staying here with a friend of my mother's, Octavia Fant?" I nodded to show I knew who she meant. Knew of her, anyway.

"So I thought this'd be a nice change of pace, bad break-up…you know how that is?" I nodded again. "Yeah, so I wanted to get away from all of that…and I came up here. Thought it would do me good to meet a few new people, so I've been trying to get out and about. And I've been helping out Greg Aubert, the insurance agent, a little, just to have something to do." Ah, so that explained where that job had gone. "So, what do you do, Sookie?"

Oh, here it was. I took a deep breath and gritted my teeth. "Nothing. At the moment, anyway. I, uh, I got laid off."

Amelia nodded. "It happens. My daddy, he owns a construction company. You think there'd still be work to be done, after Katrina, but no one's got the money and he's had to lay people off."

We nodded to each other a little, and then made some awkward small talk, before sharing our life histories. Amelia was twenty seven and had been to college, and Europe, both experiences seemingly paid for by her daddy. Since then she'd been drifting around trying to find her passion in life, which, so far, hadn't presented itself to her.

It was fairly clear to me that Amelia Broadway and I came from different worlds, but it didn't seem to pose an insurmountable barrier to us being friendly.

As we parted Amelia turned to me. "So, see you next week Sookie!"

"You will." Before the words were completely out of my mouth, Amelia grabbed me in a hug. It was nicer than I thought it would be, and I guess I appreciated her enthusiasm for just spending time with me. I'd been missing that.

Only when class started the next week, I found out that I wasn't the only person Amelia was spending time with. Tara and I were waiting for class to start when suddenly a voice said "Oh my God, Amelia! It's hotter than the devil's armpit out there, and it's not much better in here. Why is it so stinking hot?"

"Doesn't she sound like someone out of that show...what's that show? With the English people and their servants?" Tara looked puzzled as she tried to remember it.

"_Downton Abbey_," I replied. I felt a little wistful. Back when I'd been dating Bill it was a show I'd wanted to see, so he'd bought me the box set of DVDs for Christmas, and then we'd cuddled up on the couch and watched them all together. He'd even made me hot chocolate. With little marshmallows. It had been nice, being looked after by Bill. Sometimes, anyway.

"That's the one," Tara confirmed. "What's someone like that doing here?"

I had no clue on that front, and it was time to start the class anyway. Amelia was less interested in what I was doing this week and more concerned with her new friend. I left them to it and concentrated on my own dancing. It was my first time wearing heels to class, Claudine had suggested it. She'd told me it would totally change the way I moved and felt. It sure did, but I had to concentrate just a little more to make sure I didn't wobble over on them.

When class was over, however, it was a different story. Amelia suddenly remembered me and she bounded over. "Y'all coming for coffee with us?"

Tara shook her head. "JB'll be home now. I wanna spend a little time with him…," she dropped her voice. "Maybe show him a little of what I've learned." She winked at me, and then she said goodbye, leaving me with Amelia and a small woman with pale, straight hair who was staring at me expectantly.

"Um…OK. I'll come." I'd been careful with my spending, very careful, and probably one more cup of coffee I didn't make myself wouldn't hurt my budget.

"Oh, this is Pam, by the way. I just met her this week. Pam Ravenscroft, this is my friend Sookie Stackhouse." Amelia beamed at us both after finishing her introductions.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Pam," I said, holding out my hand to her.

"Oh, I think I had quite a lot of enjoyment watching you dance, Sookie. You're quite something." She looked at me with her pale blue eyes and I suddenly felt a little like I might blush. She wouldn't be coming on to me, would she?

I looked at Amelia who'd lost interest in us and was busy re-tying her sneakers. And then the moment had passed and we all walked around the back to the parking lot. "I'll give you a lift there, if you like Sookie," Pam said, and I wondered why she didn't offer the same to Amelia, but then I saw the car. The small, red sports car. Huh. So Pam had been the demon driver that'd passed me as I'd driven back from Shreveport.

"That's a very, uh, lovely car," I commented, as I lowered myself into the passenger seat. It was immaculate inside and I almost wanted to get back out and check my shoes for dirt.

"Phfft. It's a stupid car, but I've borrowed it as my rental has turned out to be somewhat unreliable. This is at least fun to drive."

"The owner doesn't mind you driving it?" Jason took the same kind of pride over his truck and I had never, ever been allowed to get behind the wheel of it. Any of the trucks he'd owned. In fact he'd once tried to refuse to drive me somewhere because I was wearing sweats and he didn't like the way I made his truck look.

"Oh, he hates it, but I have my ways of getting around that." With that she put, what was probably her boyfriend's Corvette, in gear and we flew out of the parking lot and onto Caddo Road.

It was a short drive to the Crawdad Diner, but, at the speed we travelled, it was even quicker than usual. In no time at all we were sitting in a booth opposite Amelia sipping lukewarm coffee and watching the shadows out in the main square slowly lengthen.

"So, what brings you to this part of the country, Pam?" I asked. I was mighty curious about her and where she'd come from. She just seemed so exotic. It had been a little like that when I'd first met Bill, I'd been so impressed with someone who came from the outside world and who'd travelled and done interesting things that I'd just been bowled over him. Pam, on the other hand, with her candy pink tank top and yellow exercise bra underneath was an altogether different kettle of fish.

"Oh, I'm just visiting," Pam replied, looking around the diner, almost like she'd never seen the inside of one before. Maybe she hadn't.

"Pam's friend bought that bar. That's where I ran into her," Amelia supplied. "What's his name, Pam? Ernie?"

"Eric."

"Yeah, that's right."

There was silence for a moment as I waited to see if either of them would say any more about this Eric person. Neither did. In the end I asked "So is he gonna rename the bar?"

Pam frowned. "No. Why would he?"

"Well for one thing he's not Victor and the bar's got Victor's name on it."

Pam shrugged. "I don't think Eric wants to confuse people. They might be brand loyal."

I refrained from commenting but I thought that this Eric person was seriously underestimating his clientele. After all I doubted that Jane Bodehouse, Bon Temps' most notorious lush, would be put off by a different sign hanging over the door of the bar. As long as that door still opened, I was pretty sure she'd be all right. Mostly she was just alcohol loyal.

And then we hit that sticky part in every conversation when Pam asked me what it was I did. I took one last glance out the window and I launched into my story once again.

Pam was interested but, unlike a lot of people I'd told, she didn't tell me what a shame it was, ask how I was coping, or even offer a sympathetic headshake and accompanying cluck of the tongue. I might as well have been recounting the recipe for peach cobbler.

"And now you need a new job," Pam stated. I nodded, and decided I'd talked enough about me. "What do you do, Pam?"

"Marketing. Mainly social and digital these days." She didn't elaborate further, and I nodded and pretended I understood what she was talking about.

"I like your accent," I said to Pam, and she looked a little startled. "My accent? Oh, yes. I suppose I do stand out around here."

"That's why I came over to talk to you," Amelia told her. "I had a great time in London."

Pam wrinkled her nose. "You need money to live in London. Otherwise you're stuck on the Tube with the rest of humanity. And it's very smelly dog."

"You been over here long?" I tried.

"In New York. A while." Boy, trying to get personal stuff out of Pam was like getting blood out of a stone. I wondered how on earth Amelia had ever managed to befriend her. Quite likely it was by backing her into a corner and not letting her out until she agreed to come to burlesque class.

I tried something else. "What brings you to Louisiana?"

"Oh. You know. Visiting. A friend."

"The one that owns the bar now?" I asked.

"Yes."

Amelia eyed her sympathetically. "I bet you're like the rest of us, Pam. Unlucky in love."

"Oh. Well. Something like that."

Amelia turned to me next. "Sookie has to live next door to her ex." She'd gleaned a little about Bill and me from our conversation the previous week. I now wondered if I should have adopted Pam's tactic and stayed quiet.

"Really, Sookie?" Pam asked. "How on earth do you fight the urge to go over and burn his house to the ground?"

Ah. Well. Mostly because it hadn't ever really occurred to me, no matter how mad I'd been with Bill. "Oh, well there's a whole cemetery between us. That kind of slows me down."

Pam laughed. "Oh, you're very funny Sookie." OK. I was going to take that as a good thing. Maybe I could even put it on my resume – Sookie Stackhouse, the most fun employee you'll get this side of Minden.

We finished up our coffee, and Pam offered to drive me back to where my car was parked. It was another short, fast drive. Pam seemed to be enjoying the Corvette. I wondered if her boyfriend was going to get it back anytime soon.

"You know," she said, as she parked next to my car. "You could always come and work at the bar."

"Oh. I don't really know anything about mixing drinks."

"We need a waitress, which only requires you to carry drinks to people. It's just like being an air hostess, only less glamorous." Pam looked at me expectantly. I wondered if social marketing was where they tried really, really hard not to sell anything to anyone.

"Your boyfriend won't mind that you hired me?"

Pam laughed like that was the funniest thing she'd ever heard. "Oh, no. Eric's not my boyfriend. He's…well, he used to be a work colleague." She looked like she was considering the sound of that description. "But come by, tomorrow night. I'll introduce you to him. And then he'll think it was his idea."

"To hire me?"

"Mmm-hmm."

"As a waitress?"

"Well, his requirement for air hostesses is fairly low right at the moment."

"Oh. OK." I wanted a job. I wanted a job real bad. But I wouldn't know where to start with waitressing.

Still, it couldn't be that hard, could it?

"OK," I agreed. I guess if it didn't work out, I could always just walk away. And who knew, that Eric guy might not really need a waitress. But I couldn't in good conscience turn down an opportunity when it walked up and presented itself to me. Or drove me around in a Corvette.

"Great. See you then, Sookie. Eric will be dying to meet you." I got out of the car and Pam drove off.

I dressed carefully the next night. I didn't want to over-dress, as I didn't want to look like I thought I was too good to be a waitress, but I didn't want to look like a big old slob either. In the end I opted for a white shirt and a black skirt, with a wide black belt and black heels. It didn't scream fashion statement, but I hoped I looked like I meant business.

I was more nervous than I thought I'd be for a job I wasn't sure I really wanted to do. I put it down to a fear of rejection. It was one thing for me to think about turning the job down, but another thing to think about someone else saying I wasn't even good enough to carry a tray of beers across a room.

I hoped I could carry a tray of beers. Maybe I should have been practicing? I wondered if they'd have some sort of test.

These thoughts kept me busy on the drive to the bar. After I parked my car and got out, I took one good look at the building, took a deep breath, and walked on in. I was going to be great, I was going to get this job, and I was going to be a terrific waitress just like…oh, crap. I hadn't realised Dawn Green worked here. She looked at me over her tray and I was considering just turning around and walking back out, when I noticed someone waving at me from the bar. "Sookie! Over here!" Pam called out, and I had no choice but to go through with it.

"Good, you're here. His mood isn't too bad, so just follow me and I'll show you to his office…," Pam started walking off without me. I worried a little about the mood comment. Who on earth was I about to be shut in an office with?

"Are you sure this is a good idea, Pam?" It suddenly occurred to me I'd only known Pam for twenty-four hours. I'd told Tara about the interview. I hoped she thought to call and check up on me.

Maybe I should have told Jason as well? Or Bill? Had I seen something like this on one of those true-crime shows?

We walked through a door at the side of the bar, and down a narrow corridor. "Right, here we are then." Pam opened a door and gestured for me to step inside. As I did so, Pam turned and called out down the corridor. "Ginger! Ginger, can you tell Eric his interview is here?" There was a murmured response I didn't really catch from whoever Ginger was. "I know you're busy," Pam continued. "That's why she's here."

"OK, take a seat; I'm going back out front. And he's Eric. Eric Northman. You might need to know that." And then she was gone. I did as I was told, and sat in the green vinyl chair opposite the desk and stared at the framed photographs of Elvis Presley that decorated the walls. It was really the only personal touch in the whole room.

Eventually, and after I'd had to talk myself out of just finding the back entrance and leaving several times over, someone came in to the office. I turned to see who it was.

It was a man. A very tall, blond man who took up most of the space in the small office. A man I had to assume was the Eric Northman I was here to see. He wasn't looking at me though; he was scowling at the sheets of paper in his hand. His air of undiluted annoyance just made me feel like I'd done something wrong. I had half a mind to just apologise and hope he spared me the wrath that was so clearly building up.

I took a deep breath and told myself not to be so silly. He was busy, he had a bar to run, and it had nothing to do with me. I waited for him to acknowledge my presence but he continued to act like I didn't exist. OK. So this was awkward. Maybe he was so engrossed I could just scuttle out of here? If he would just take a step to one side, I could maybe squeeze past him and he'd be none the wiser.

But then he finally looked up and caught me staring at him, waiting for him to do something other than stand there and look at what was in his hands. He was scarily handsome, like those models they use to sell suits and watches.

It didn't make him any less intimidating.

He took a seat at the desk and looked at me again. "You're Pam's friend? Here for the waitress job?"

OK. So straight to business. "Yes. Here's my resume. And it's nice to meet you, Mr Northman. Thank you for seeing me." I handed over the copy I'd stashed in my purse. Eric took it, and put it on his desk without glancing at it. He just kept looking at me.

"Have you waitressed before?"

"No...but I…" Eric held up a hand. "I really need someone who's experienced."

"I'm fairly certain I can do the job" I said.

"Uh-huh." I waited for Eric to ask me another question. He just kept looking at me. I reflected that even if I didn't get the job, and that was looking quite likely now, at least this was good interview training. Or possibly I could get a job with the CIA afterwards. Either way, having Eric stare at me like this was probably toughening me up.

"I used to be an accounts clerk."

"Then at least you can add up the checks." I expected Eric might smile at that, having perhaps made a joke. He didn't.

I figured I had nothing to lose by making small-talk. "I see you're a fan." I nodded at the pictures on the walls. "Bubba's big around here."

Eric frowned. "Who?"

"The king."

"I seriously doubt Louisiana has a king." Oh great, now he thought I was an idiot who probably hadn't finished high school. I wanted to reach over, grab my resume, and point to where it said in black and white that I had, but I refrained. _Suck it up_, I told myself. _It'll be over soon, and then you can go home and never see this man again. _Now that was a thought that cheered me up.

"Elvis," I tried, and Eric frowned again. "Elvis who?" he asked, and then he finally figured out what I was talking about. He turned and looked over his shoulder at the pictures, and seemed surprised they were here.

"Oh. No. Those were here when I got here. I thought maybe you meant someone in the bar. There seem to be a lot of people with odd names. Someone called Catnip tried to buy me a beer earlier."

"That'll be Catfish. Catfish Hennessey." Eric gave me a look that suggested he hadn't actually been looking for that information. "He's my brother's boss," I added, only realising after I said it that I was probably playing right into Eric's ideas about how everyone around here knew each other and their business and were probably second cousins to boot.

"OK," he said in the end. "Like I said, there are a few odd names around. So, I'm sorry, your name was?"

Oh lord. "Sookie. Stackhouse."

"Mmm. Well, Sookie." He pronounced my name carefully, like he was speaking a foreign language. "I guess you've got the job. Mainly because I haven't actually advertised the job yet, and you're here because Pam's set up her own recruitment agency, so you get it by default."

OK. I wasn't expecting a ticker-tape parade and a crown, but Eric sure didn't seem to be offering me the job based on anything other than the fact I was here. I knew that it was supposed to work like that, right place, right time and all of that, but even so. Some congratulations might be nice. A looking forward to working with you, even. Perhaps a welcome to the team.

But instead Eric reached into a drawer and pulled out a stack of forms. "Fill these out," he instructed. "And come back at four tomorrow." Then he left the room.

I waited and, after a moment, a small, blonde woman came in. "I'm Ginger, and I'm real glad you're startin'," she said. "Here's your t-shirt, you wear your own jeans or jean shorts, see you tomorrow!" And then she started to walk out, but stopped in the doorway and turned back to look at me. "You know, Pam was right," she said, eyeing me critically. Well, my bust to be specific. "But it don't matter. If that's too tight, bring it back tomorrow and we'll put you in a large." With that she was gone.

I left Eric's office, clutching the t-shirt and the forms, and walked back to the bar. "Did you get it?" Pam asked me, from her seat on one of the bar-stools.

"Um…yeah…I guess…"

Pam turned to the guy with long hair standing behind the bar. "Pay up, Long Shadow!"

"You were betting on me?"

"Sookie, I know a sure thing when I see one," Pam said, and for some reason, that made me just a little bit uncomfortable.

"Well, I better head off. Go home. Get a good night's sleep before my first day. Or evening, anyway, I guess. Night, Pam. Thanks for recommending me to Eric. I sure do appreciate it."

"Yes. Well. Don't sell yourself short, Sookie. I'm fairly sure you did a good job of recommending yourself; you certainly have a lot of attributes that make you eminently hireable. And Eric no doubt appreciated your enthusiasm." Pam winked at me. I wasn't sure if it was just the accent, but why did everything Pam said sound kinda dirty?

"Boy, Claudine's gonna be real pleased you got your persona coming right along Pam."

"Oh, Sookie." Pam laughed. "You have a good night, and I'll see you tomorrow."

I smiled at her and then left the bar, and, as I walked out to my car I gave myself another little pep talk. I had a job. A real honest to goodness job. Sure it was waitressing, but I could be the best damn waitress they had and you never knew what the future might hold.

Let's face it, if you'd told me a week earlier I'd be a waitress at Vic's Redneck Roadhouse I wouldn't have believed you. Life's funny that way.

**Thanks for reading!**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N I'm still so thrilled by the response to this story. I hope you all enjoy this chapter.**

**Disclaimer: Not mine.**

I spent most of the next day in a state of nervous anticipation, counting down the hours until it was time to start my new job. It was hard to think of anything else, but I forced myself to do some laundry, bake some cookies and read a book, even though I think I read the same sentence twenty times over.

I took a long shower in the afternoon, and then pulled my hair up into a tight ponytail before it could make my neck all sweaty again. I applied my make-up carefully and took the white t-shirt Ginger had given me the day before out of its plastic bag. Then I put it on.

Well, the effect was interesting. You could say that, at least. The shirt was white, with the name of the bar written in big, black letters. It was a little on the tight side, but what stood out the most was the fact that I now had the word Redneck written in large letters across my bust. I wasn't sure it was my best look, but I suspected that I wasn't going to be consulted on the choice of uniform.

My choices were limited to deciding between jeans or jean shorts. I went with the jeans, and also sneakers. I couldn't remember what footwear Ginger had been wearing the night before, but I was going to be on my feet for a while. Comfort might be important.

But comfort was one thing, and style was another. When I got to the bar, feeling jittery and overwhelmed by the stress of starting something new, I was confronted with Pam looking cool and elegant in a champagne coloured silk blouse, taupe slacks, a long string of pearls and high heels that looked like snakeskin. They might have been snakeskin, I couldn't really tell. On anyone else the look might have been fussy and old-fashioned, but on Pam, well, Pam looked beautiful.

"The outfit suits you, Sookie," Pam said, as she took in my uniform. "You fill it out nicely."

"Yeah, thanks Pam. You look pretty good yourself."

"Oh. I know. Anyway, Ginger's around…somewhere…" Pam waved a hand airily.

I held up the forms I'd diligently filled out and brought back so Eric could know what my social security number was and who to call for an emergency. I'd put down Jason's name in the end, although I'd debated with myself for a while. Tara and Bill were probably both, at times, more considerate of my well-being, but Jason was blood and he was stuck with me.

"I need to get these back to Eric," I said.

Pam frowned slightly. "Oh. Uh...Eric's not available right now. You can give those to Long Shadow."

"The bartender?"

"Bar manager. Apparently." Pam looked like she didn't think much of that title.

"OK." I looked around for where Long Shadow was. "Storeroom," Pam said, helpfully. I ventured into the corridor off the bar and located the storeroom. Sure enough, Long Shadow was in there. He didn't seem pleased that I'd interrupted him.

"Pam said you'd take these from me. In Eric's absence." I held out the forms, and he turned around to look at me properly. Truth be told, he was a little scary, and I tried to put that down to the fact he was imposing rather than just the fact that he was the first Native American I'd really ever seen. Either way, despite the fact that some might find his shirtless torso and his long hair rippling down his back a real pleasure to look at, I was less than thrilled at finding myself alone in a dimly lit room with him.

"Absence. We're calling it that. OK, sure. I'll take them." Long Shadow held out his hand and spent an awfully long time reading the word Redneck on my t-shirt. I was in half a mind to ask him if he was going to manage reading the forms, when Ginger bustled in. "Oh, there you are, hon. Pam said you'd arrived. OK, we gotta hustle so I can go over everything before it gets busy. Put your purse over there in a locker, and come with me." She walked out of the storeroom and I quickly stashed my purse and followed her.

"Have a good first night," Long Shadow said to my retreating back, but I was too busy listening to all the things that Ginger was rattling off. "OK, so from now on, you come in that door down there…from the parking lot at the back, and the code is…well, OK. I'll tell you the code later on. I keep forgetting, so I'll have to check with Dawn. Um, so that's the storeroom, employee bathroom's off that, customer bathrooms are there…we take turns doing checks on the ladies throughout the night…"

I was trying to keep up with Ginger and pay attention to what she was telling me, so the door opening to my right was a surprise. It probably surprised Dawn, too, when she just about stood on me, but she managed to cover that up and go back to smirking. "Close the door," Eric's voice called out from inside the office.

"Yes, boss," Dawn said, with a large amount of simpering, and then she closed the door before sauntering off down the corridor towards the bar. "Hey, Dawn, what's the code for the back door?" Ginger called out.

"It's like, the number one, four times." Even the exasperation in Dawn's voice didn't stop her smiling broadly, just like the cat who got the canary, as she turned back to look at us. Uh-huh, so maybe Dawn's dreams were coming true.

Well, that was just super for Dawn.

I didn't have time to think about Dawn at any great length though, because Ginger was off again. "Here's your apron, tie that on. Nice jeans, by the way…although Belinda always said you get better tips if you show a little leg…I miss Belinda. Still, you got a _great_ rack, and that'll help you. I'm just glad you're here, 'cos since Belinda left, I only got Dawn to help, well, sometimes Danielle, but Dawn's just real interested in spending time with the boss, so she's not out here too much."

I looked up from tying on my apron to find Ginger trying to hand me a tray. "You carry one of these, and you write down the orders on the pad, drink orders on the tear-off bit…that goes on the bar to Long Shadow…food goes to the kitchen, pick up the drinks when they're ready, then the food. We do two beers, and we got cocktails and Cokes. Food is on the little menu there; it's not much to remember, thank heavens, but you do gotta pay attention to how they order it. Some people are real picky and don't want their fried pickles touching their chicken strips or whatever! OK, so tables are numbered from over there…and they go clock-wise…no, counter…oh. OK, so that's one, then two, then three, then four…I think. Yeah, I think that's four…and so that's five…"

It was a lot to take in, and it wasn't just learning how to take the orders. Ginger had to show me how to set up too. I had not realised what a delicate process it was filling salt shakers, and that napkin dispensers had an optimum number of napkins they could take before it became impossible to get them back out again.

All the while Dawn avoided us, working on the tables in her own section. "You can have a half a section tonight, seeing as it's your first night," Ginger said to me.

"Oh, I'm sure Sookie can handle anything you throw at her," Pam's voice said from behind us.

"Oh. Um. Sure, yeah. But you know, Pam…I just wanted her to ease into it." Ginger looked a little wary of Pam.

"I'm sure you did, Ginger. And it's very thoughtful of you." Pam gave us both a smile, and walked off.

"So does Pam actually work here?" I asked, and Ginger gave me a funny look. "I thought she would have told ya?" she asked me.

"Um…no. I only met her the day before yesterday." Boy, time moved fast when you were having fun. Or when you were a waitress, anyway.

"Oh. But I just thought…well, you know…" I didn't, so I did my best 'no, so you'll have to tell me because I'm interested' look. "I mean, she kept talking and talking about how great you were, so I just assumed that you was together."

"Together?"

"Yeah, like dating. And I said to Dawn it was nice she'd get to see her girlfriend so often, but Dawn was kinda rude 'bout that. I think she's a little homo-phobic." Ginger looked defiant, like she'd back me up whatever it took.

But I just simply didn't have anything to say to that. So I stayed quiet and went back to lining up the salt and pepper shakers. "Next, we'll do the ketchup bottles and I'll show you where the big containers are in the kitchen," she continued on.

"OK," I agreed.

"I mean, I wouldn't mind," Ginger said. "If that's why you got the job. Because of Pam, and stuff. As long as you're not like Dawn…who thinks she's so great because she's got Eric wrapped round her little finger…then, you know, I think we'll be fine." Ginger finished with a big smile at me, and I couldn't help but smile back.

Maybe being Pam's girlfriend wouldn't be so bad after all.

Still, I didn't think I could carry on under false pretences. "I'm not gay."

"What now?"

"I don't date women."

"Not even Pam? I think she's real nice, and she's all, like, classy-pretty." Ginger looked at me expectantly. Boy, she was so enthusiastic, I wondered for a moment if Pam was paying her.

"Uh…no. Not even Pam."

"Oh." Ginger's forehead crinkled. "So… oh. You got someone then? A fella, I mean?"

"No." But I had a job now, and my health. Today was a count my blessings day, so I tried not to sound too down about it.

"Hmm. Well, you never know who might come in." Ginger shrugged. "I'll introduce you to Lafayette, come on." She picked up a tray of ketchup bottles.

I hoped this wasn't another attempt by Ginger to set me up with a member of staff. I followed her into the kitchen where there were two black men wearing white aprons over their t-shirts. Only one of them turned to look at us.

"This here's Lafayette, he cooks for us, and D'Eriq helps him up, busses tables. This is Sookie, the new waitress." Ginger pointed to the man whose back was still to us.

"Uh-huh," Lafayette said, without looking up from the fryer. D'Eriq looked over at me, gave me a shy nod, and looked away again.

"Well, we won't disturb you boys for too long," Ginger said. "We're just on a ketchup run. See, over here? In the storeroom off the kitchen, there's them big containers. You just fill up the bottles from those."

I looked at where Ginger was pointing and, when I looked back, Lafayette had stopped watching his fryer and was staring intently at me. His almond-shaped eyes were lined with eye-liner that was so much straighter and neater than I could ever get my own.

That just didn't seem fair.

"So, Sookie. The boss man hire you-all?" Lafayette asked me, one hand on his hip.

"Um…I guess…" I said, a little uncomfortable at his scrutiny. He was also reading the word Redneck rather closely, but I got the impression it was for a whole other set of reasons than the ones that had attracted Long Shadow's intense scrutiny.

"She's Pam's friend," Ginger said, in my defence. I think. There was something going on here, but I wasn't entirely sure what.

"Friend, huh?" Lafayette asked, and I could pretty much figure out what he was getting at. I was about to open my mouth to say, once again, that I wasn't Pam's love interest when Ginger decided to do it for me.

"Yeah, but they ain't dating or nothing so that ain't why she got the job."

"You get it on account of your fine waitressing skills, then Sookie?" Lafayette asked.

"Well I haven't waitressed before, but I'm sure I can do a good job. I'm hard-working and willing to learn and…" Lafayette held up a hand to stop me. "Miss Sookie, they already done hired you, ain't no good telling me your resume now."

I decided not to reply to that. It was pretty clear that Lafayette was nothing but dismissive of me, and that was fine. I would prove him wrong, I was sure I could.

"And anyways," Lafayette continued, turning back to the food he was preparing. "Ship goes down, we's all going down with it. One more body don't make no difference, anyhow."

Ginger narrowed her eyes at Lafayette's back. "You been watching _Titanic_ again, Lafayette? I just love that movie."

Lafayette turned to D'Eriq and rolled his eyes in a manner that was mostly just rude. "Yeah, we all loves that movie," Lafayette agreed, and turned back to what he was doing.

I didn't think he'd been talking about a movie. And I started to get a niggling feeling in the pit of my stomach. It was probably just nerves, this being my first night. But still. Ship going down. That didn't sound good, did it?

"OK, well let's get this done!" Ginger said brightly, and she carried the tray of ketchup bottles into the storeroom where we filled them all before returning them back out into the main room. By this time Long Shadow had taken up his position behind the bar, and Pam was on one of the bar stools.

"OK, you ladies ready for action?" Long Shadow called out.

"Oh, you know it!" Ginger said brightly.

"New girl?" he asked.

"Yep. Think I'm all set." I smoothed down my apron and tightened my ponytail. I could do this, I repeated.

"Of course you are, Sookie," Pam informed me. "I'm sure you're one of those women who were born ready."

"Like you, Pam?" Long Shadow asked her, with a smirk.

"But more so," Pam replied, smirking back.

"Y'all ain't gonna bet on me again, are you?" I asked, slightly worried about their exchange.

"No. No, I'm sure Long Shadow doesn't want to lose any more money to me." Pam laughed.

"Oh, lady. I got plenty of money, but I'd be happy to take some of yours any day of the week."

I turned my attention away from the bar and back to Ginger. "You all set, hon?" she asked.

"Yep." I was all ready to prove what a great waitress I could be.

Turns out that proving it was harder than I thought it was going to be. It looks simple when it's someone else taking the orders and carrying the food, but I found it hard to get the orders down in a way that Lafayette could interpret, and then he'd yell at me. I forgot to pick up the drinks, causing Long Shadow to yell at me as well. Only he couldn't remember my name and started calling out "Blondie!" when he wanted my attention.

At least I hoped he was only doing it because he couldn't remember my name. I liked to give people the benefit of the doubt.

It might not have been so bad if it hadn't caught on. I was trying to deal with a large table of air force personnel, who'd come in from the Barksdale base near Shreveport, and I didn't seem to be doing a very good job. No sooner would I deliver a basket of fries, or a bottle of ketchup, or someone's beer, than they would realise that I had forgotten something else, and they would call out "Blondie! Hey! Blondie!" and I would have to go back and find out what I had missed this time.

It was a humbling experience, and being constantly referred to as Blondie wasn't making it any better. I hoped that when Eric came out to scan the bar and talk to Long Shadow, he might put a stop to it. But I don't think he even noticed, and, if he did, he didn't care.

I felt a huge pang of longing for my old job and my old co-workers and even my old boss, the one who didn't think twice about letting me go. I couldn't go back, that was for certain, but I didn't see why it had to be quite so damn hard going forward.

And all the while I had Dawn on the other side of the room watching me and smirking, and sauntering around between her own tables looking like she knew exactly what she was doing.

Well, I just had to face facts. She'd been here longer. One day, I'd be good at this waitressing thing too, just not today.

And then Andy Bellefleur and Bud Dearborn came in, and sat at a table in my section. Bud looked at me in surprise. "Didn't expect to see you here, Sookie," he said, and I bit my tongue before I said the same thing back to him. I wondered if Mrs Dearborn was expecting him home any time soon.

Andy just looked at the table, and I don't think it was the way I'd positioned the salt and pepper shakers so evenly that truly held his attention. I didn't know why they had to make me feel so damn bad. After all, I was here earning an honest wage, wasn't I? So what if I had to have word Redneck stamped across my chest to do so?

"So what will you gentlemen be having?" I asked them, and they hemmed and hawed and eventually ordered two beers and two burgers and fries, and some fried pickles to share. At least that was what I had written on my pad when I went to hand the orders in. I hoped it was right.

It was, but Long Shadow still called out "Blondie!" to get my attention. "You know, I got a name," I said to him when I went to pick up the two bottles of beer.

Long Shadow shrugged, and went back to slicing up a lemon. "Yeah, but it's not a good one."

"I…uh. Well _I_ like it. And I'd like you to use it. Please."

Long Shadow looked up from his slicing, and shrugged. "Whatever," he said, and though the comment was casual, his eyes were narrowed and focussed right on me. Great, I hoped I hadn't made an enemy out of him. Between Dawn lording it over me and Lafayette clearly not being impressed with my food-serving abilities, I needed all the friends I could get about now.

I wondered briefly where Pam had gone, but I had to hustle the beers back to Andy and Sheriff Dearborn's table.

I half-expected a thank-you, but I guess that was silly of me. All I got for my trouble was a nod from Andy. Well, I was just staff, after all. It wasn't like we were sitting in his grandmother's good room, sorry, _parlour_, with Bill and Portia and Halleigh now, was it?

The funny thing was I didn't feel any different. But in everyone else's eyes it was like something had shifted.

I thought it might be better when Jason came in, with Hoyt and Catfish. They were laughing and joking as they sat down and I expected them to include me, but they didn't. They just started rattling off their orders quicker than I could write them down.

"Hang on. I just need to get that written up."

"Jeez, Sook," Jason complained. "Ain't you got the hang of it yet?"

"Yeah. But I don't wanna get it wrong."

"Hey, Blondie!" one of the airmen called out. "I need another beer."

"Hey, dude!" Jason called back, turning around and leaning over the back of his chair to do so. "That's my sister. She'll take my order first." He turned back around to the sound of the airmen laughing in the background.

"You know you have to tip well, if it's family," Hoyt said to Jason, who pulled a face. "I ain't tipping Sookie just to bring me a beer, when I could go to her place and she could bring me a beer for free."

"Gee, thanks Jason." Catfish and Hoyt were laughing at his joke. At least, I hoped it was a joke. I was counting on the tips.

"Aw, Sook. You know I love you. And I'm here to support you, see where you work now. It's all right, ain't it? What they done with the place?"

"Jason, I don't think they've done nothing to the place…looks just the same. But it's nice to see it open again," Catfish said, looking around as well. "Been a bar here as long as I can remember. Good to see the landmark back again."

Well if a bar with the word Redneck in red neon letters was what passed for a landmark in Bon Temps, we were in trouble.

I placed the order for Jason's party, and picked up the food for Andy Bellefleur and Bud Dearborn. They barely even glanced at me when I dropped it off.

Boy, I hoped they were big tippers.

Ginger came over and told me it was time to take a break, so I passed on the details of the orders I was waiting on, and walked back out through the door to the corridor that led to the back.

Only by the time I was out here, I wasn't sure what I was supposed to do with myself. I thought about going back to the bar, and joining Jason, but I realised that I wouldn't feel comfortable with that now that this was my place of work.

So it was a little awkward.

I decided to see if I had any gum in my purse, and went back to the stockroom where I'd left it. I was pleased to see it was still there, and even more pleased to find the packet of gum I'd stashed in an inside pocket some days earlier.

I pulled out a strip and started chewing, and then I decided I might as well have a good look around while I was there. Just in case someone ever asked me to get something, or wanted to know if we had a particular brand of bourbon, or, well…

OK, so I just didn't have anything to do. But it was always good to be prepared. After all, I didn't think I'd have done so well in my last job if I hadn't shown an interest in what else went on in the office.

And I didn't think Lafayette was going to let me go and poke around in his kitchen any time soon.

But my quiet contemplation of the boxes of beer was interrupted by Long Shadow's appearance. "What are you doing in here?" he demanded.

"Oh, I was just having a break."

"Don't take it in here."

"Um…so I should…?" I didn't think they had a staff room like Herveaux's did.

"Don't care. But you can't be in here. Boss wouldn't like it."

"OK." I probably didn't really need a break anyway. I felt bad about just walking away from my customers and leaving them all to Ginger, who was covering more tables than I was.

I started to walk back to the bar, but stopped when I heard Eric walk into the stockroom and start talking to Long Shadow. Maybe that was rude of me, but I was curious about Eric. He'd been mostly absent all night and I wondered what exactly he was managing around here. Turned out, he was only here to give Long Shadow some orders. "Don't frighten the new girl," he said.

"She can't be back here," Long Shadow said. "It's not a good idea."

"Stock level's fine. That isn't the problem," Eric said darkly. "And don't frighten her. We can't lose another one."

"Not one with such great tits, anyway."

I waited for Eric to reply to that statement, but instead he asked "How busy?", and I gave up and walked back through the door to the bar. I didn't really know what I'd been expecting to hear anyway.

I wished I hadn't come back early when I found Bill waiting for me. "That guy only wants you," Ginger said, pointing him out to me. There was a time when I would have wished fervently that that were true, but the fact that Selah Pumphrey was sitting next to him suggested that it wasn't strictly the case.

"How are you, Sookie?" Bill asked, incredibly sympathetically, when I went over to take their order.

"Oh, I'm great!" I sounded way too happy, even for my own ears. I realised it was just a reaction to Bill acting like I had some kind of terminal illness, instead of a waitressing job, but I still wished I'd come across as a little less affected by it all.

I half expected Bill to say something like 'Are you, Sookie? Are you, _really_?' but he didn't, he just nodded and said "We'll have two red wines. Whatever you have is fine."

Oh, did we do wine? I checked with Long Shadow, who was now back behind the bar. Nope, we did not stock wine.

"No wine, I'm afraid," I said when I got back to Bill's table. Selah rolled her eyes, which was a nice change from the expression she'd been sporting. The one which screamed 'I can't believe he brought me here'. "We got beers, and cocktails, and Cokes." I smiled, kind of apologetically.

"Never mind. I'll just have…what do you want Selah?"

"Um…I'll take a Diet Coke, then." Selah said that brightly, with the air of someone who was making the best of things. Well, gee, if it was that bad, she could take her skinny ass and haul it all the way back to where she came from…

But I had to stop that kind of thinking if I didn't want to say something I was going to regret. I was going to smile, and be gracious, and count my tips at the end of the night.

Even if it was going to be more than a little odd taking tips from Bill.

"And for you, Bill?" I asked, just as Jason banged his table and called out "Another round of beers, Sook-ee!"

Bill winced, and my smile grew a little tighter, but he simply said "A beer would be fine, thank you Sookie."

More people came in and I found I got too busy to even pay much attention to Bill and Selah and they left soon, anyway. I still had the airmen, and Jason and his crew and several other tables still keeping me running back and forth and back again fetching drinks and food and condiments and matches and pens and, once, a safety pin for a young girl when the strap broke on her dress.

I was glad when things started to wind down after midnight. I was surprisingly tired, not just from the effort of trying to learn what I needed to do, but physically tired as well. Even wearing sneakers, eight hours of nothing but standing on a concrete floor made my feet ache.

And then, when it was near 2am, we ran out of customers, and I had pretty much run out of energy anyway. "How'd you do, hon?" Ginger asked me.

"Oh. OK, I think. In the end, I mean…do you think I did OK?"

"Oh. No." She laughed a little. "I meant tips. It's your first night, so everyone was bound to tip big."

"Oh. OK." I looked at the money in my apron pocket. "All right, I guess."

"That looks pretty good to me. Be thankful he don't make us pool our tips and share 'em out. Some places do that, you know." Ginger nodded to make her point.

Dawn must have overheard our conversation. "Well, I'm glad I don't have to share. I had near damn half the bar to cover most of the night. I earned my cash."

"Sookie's new! I couldn't give her a whole section right straight-off. Anyways, you weren't no better when you started." Dawn gave Ginger a look that suggested she thought otherwise, but then she disappeared down the corridor out the back. I wondered if she was off to catch up with Eric now work was over for the night. Morning. Whatever you wanted to call it.

"She thinks she's hot stuff, that one," Ginger said to her retreating back.

"And Eric does too?"

"Well I couldn't even begin to imagine what it is he thinks about anything." Ginger didn't sound like she was all that interested in the inner workings of Eric's mind, either.

"Oh. So, you worked for him long?"

"Not really. But he's better than Victor was. I'm just glad he bought the place. It's mighty miserable when you ain't got an income, let me tell you."

"I know."

Ginger smiled at me. "Course you do, sweetie. You get it. But that Dawn, sheesh. She just thinks it's her God-given right to waltz on in here and act like she owns the place. Not even Pam acts like that, and she does own part of the place."

"She does?"

"Apparently so. I mean, I heard her talking about her investment one day, with Eric, so I guess she's got money in the place. That's probably why she's here so much."

It seemed a little odd all these people suddenly moving to Bon Temps and buying up a bar, even if it was a landmark. But it had given me a job, so I wasn't about to say it was a bad thing. It was just…surprising, I guessed.

And then Pam herself came over to us. "Sookie!" She kissed me on the cheek, which was unexpected, but not unwelcome. She smelled really good. "Did you enjoy your first night?"

I thought enjoy might be too strong a term for what I felt. Mostly I just felt relieved to have made it through the night. Relieved and a little bit thankful for the tips in my apron pocket. "It was good, Pam."

Pam looked at me carefully. "Well, you did fine, Sookie. I'm proud of you."

I was glad that she was, because Eric's face loomed over her shoulder. He didn't look proud of me at all. "Pam?" he asked. "My keys?"

"Oh. Bugger it! I left them in my handbag. Hang on." Pam walked off quickly, leaving me with Eric.

I thought he might just leave too, but he stood there and frowned at me. I wondered if I was going to be told not to loiter in the stockroom again. After a while he said. "So…you're still here."

"Yep." Then I thought about that. "You thought I might quit?"

"Some of the waitresses…" he stopped. "The Blondie thing…sometimes he needs to rein it in."

"Oh."

"I have told him. I don't want a lawsuit."

I shrugged. "Well I doubt I can get a lawyer to represent me. Best one'd be Portia Bellefleur, and since I stopped dating her third cousin, or whatever Bill was, she don't really have the time of day for me."

Eric looked at me like I was an alien. And then we were interrupted by Jane Bodehouse. "You think I can get a refill?" she said, hopefully, holding up her glass to Eric. Eric actually stepped backwards, like he was afraid she might touch him.

Well, if I was an alien, clearly I was the cute, fluffy kind and Jane was the scary kind, with the insect head and slime-drooling jaws.

"We're closed," Eric informed Jane. "Please leave."

"Just one more?" Jane batted her eyelashes at Eric in what she obviously thought was a great use of her charms. I wondered just when that little move had last worked for her.

"No. Please leave before I have Long Shadow escort you out to your car."

"She can't drive!" I hadn't meant to say it that loudly, but it made Eric turn suddenly to look at me. And then he turned back to Jane.

"Long Shadow will call you a cab. Wait outside." He turned around to walk back to the bar. I followed him. "Do you know how much a cab from here is gonna cost her?"

He didn't reply. I took that as not only did he not know, he didn't care either. He'd had all the money he was going to get out of her tonight, now he wanted her to be someone else's problem.

Eric looked around, presumably for Long Shadow. When the bartender didn't appear, Eric went to the phone placed on the end of the bar, picked up the receiver, and then ran one of his fingers down a list of printed out phone numbers taped to the bar itself.

Without thinking I put my hand on his, and he yanked it away from me like I'd burned him. Ouch.

"Look, just give me the phone," I said, and Eric replaced the receiver and pushed the phone towards me. "Y'all got a phone book around here?"

Eric looked blank. I walked behind the bar and looked on the shelves underneath it, and, after moving a few things out of the way, found what I was looking for. In the meantime, Jane had sat herself down on the barstool next to Eric, and was watching us curiously. "Just a little one for the road?" she murmured, but neither of us replied to her.

I turned to the listings under B and dialled the number. Luckily, there was an answer after just a few rings. "Oh, hey Marvin," I said, in reply to the greeting. "It's Sookie. Sookie Stackhouse. I'm working out at Vic's Redneck Roadhouse now, and we got your momma here. She needs a ride home." Marvin sighed audibly into the phone. I guessed it wasn't the first time he'd had a phone call like this.

But he still agreed to come and get her. "I'll keep an eye on her. Make sure she doesn't do anything she'll regret," I assured him, and then I hung up. I had expected that Eric would have left me to my task, but he hadn't. Instead I looked up from the phone and straight into his dark blue gaze. He was on the other side of the bar staring at me, as if he was trying to figure out how I worked.

Well, I guess he'd obviously had enough of reading the word Redneck for one night.

"I don't know what it's like where you're from, but I couldn't just let her pay for a cab," I said, in my defence. "Not when I know her son'll do anything for her. Poor guy." I missed my parents awfully sometimes, but I didn't envy Marvin Bodehouse his mother.

"Well, aren't you sweet?" Eric asked, with an edge to his voice.

"Not especially."

I looked into his eyes for a few more moments than was comfortable, and then he turned around and walked off. Yeah, he seemed to be kind of good at that.

Ginger talked me through the tasks we needed to complete before we went home, and I set about those, under the watchful gaze of Jane Bodehouse. "I always liked you, Tara," she said to me. "Your parents were real good friends to me."

"Uh-huh. That's real nice, Jane." I didn't even have the energy to correct her.

Marvin showed up, and was mighty apologetic about his mother's condition, and very thankful to me for taking such good care of her. I told him not to be so silly; of course we cared about our customers. Vic's Redneck Roadhouse was just one big family, after all.

If only.

And then, when I was almost dead on my feet, I could finally take off my apron and add it to the dirty linen hamper in the storeroom, retrieve my purse, and start to head on out to my car. Only, as I walked down the corridor, I almost ran into Eric.

"Is she gone?" he asked me.

"Who?" I'd been so focussed on the fact that I was leaving that, for a minute, I was stumped. "Oh, Jane. Yeah, her son came. I wrote his number on the list."

"List?"

"List of numbers. By the phone on the bar. That way any one of us can call him the next time she's in that state, which'll probably be tomorrow night going by past form."

Eric didn't say anything to that. He just gave me that strange look again, like I was some puzzle he was trying to put together, but some of the pieces were missing the whole thing just didn't make a lick of sense.

Or maybe I was just tired and my brain was running away from me. Maybe he was waiting for me to say something else. "Night, Eric," I tried. "See you tomorrow."

He didn't reply to that, just gave me a curt and oddly formal nod, and then stood aside to let me pass. As I opened the door to the parking lot I heard Dawn's voice say "There you are. I been waiting to talk to you," and I guessed he had better things to worry about than me anyway.

Outside though, illuminated by the one measly security light attached to the back of the bar building, was Pam.

"So you survived it Sookie?" she asked.

"I did, but I'll be mighty glad to see my bed."

Pam laughed, but then looked serious. "Listen, I'm sorry about Long Shadow. Ginger said he was giving you a hard time. I should have warned you about him."

I shrugged. I was sure I'd had worse in my time.

"He's all piss and wind, really. He likes to push people around, but, if you push back, he'll stop. Just don't let him walk all over you. That's my advice."

I nodded, to show I understood. And then I had a thought. "You got any advice about Eric?"

Pam looked surprised. "Eric?

"Yeah, I mean, I know it'll be different where he's from, but, geez, he acts like I'm the oddest person in the entire universe."

"He does?" Pam crinkled her nose.

"It's a little off-putting."

"Oh, you don't need to worry about Eric, Sookie. He's quite harmless, really. He's just…well; I think he looks at everyone that way. Me included."

"You known him long?" I was still very curious about what their relationship actually was.

"A while. We worked together."

"In New York?"

"That's right." Pam still didn't seem to be big on details about herself. Maybe she'd be more forthcoming about Eric.

"You good friends, then?"

Pam looked thoughtful. "I guess…" she said, slowly.

"So…you came here to help him out?"

"Something like that." Pam seemed a little tight-lipped on that one, too. I tried another tactic.

"Where's he from, then? Eric, I mean. New York?"

"Um…originally?" I nodded for yes. "Oh, the middle."

"Middle of what?"

"The country, Sookie." Pam sounded like that should have been obvious. I guessed things were slightly different in England because that sure covered a whole lot of possibilities.

"I don't really know," she continued. "But I think it's one of those places where they're all Scandinavian or something. You know. Lots of unpronounceable names and what-not."

"Like an IKEA?"

Pam let out a peal of laughter. "Oh Sookie!" she said. "Oh, you do make me laugh. I really appreciate that." She wiped a hand under an eye, miraculously not smudging any of her mascara.

"I think he does look a little like a Viking though, don't you?" she asked me, when her laughter died down.

"Who? Eric?"

"Yes. Couldn't you just see him swinging an axe?" I could see him standing around while we all swung axes, but maybe I just didn't know him as well as Pam did. "Of course his hair should be longer," Pam mused. "And you know, maybe a beard? Or braids? But I think he's got the general look down pat."

OK, well it was Pam's little fantasy world and I was just going to let her have that one. But, unfortunately, she wanted my opinion. "Don't you think he just really looks like a Viking?"

The only Viking I'd ever seen was, I'm pretty sure, Fabio dressed up as one on the cover of a romance novel in the Bon Temps library.

Eric did not look like Fabio.

"Um…well. I can't say as I really know. I guess it's possible. But just because he's blond and blue-eyed I don't know that we should…well, stereotype him, I guess. You are too. Blonde, that is. I could say the same thing about you."

Pam laughed again. "Oh no, Sookie. My family are resoundingly from good English stock. But, I do like to think that maybe I'm descended from the women who weren't very good at running away from Vikings." Pam winked at me.

Um. OK.

"And with your colouring," Pam continued on, "we could say the same thing about your ancestors."

No. No, I liked to think that I was descended from the kind of women who were very good at running away from danger. And hiding. And probably living to fight on another day. But I didn't want to get into a game of 'my ancestors are better than your ancestors' with Pam. I'd been to enough meetings of the Descendants of the Glorious Dead with Gran to know that that could get real ugly, real quick.

"Yep, well. We could start a club," I said to Pam.

"Excellent idea, Sookie! I'll be president." She gave me a broad smile. "Well, you better head off now, and get some sleep so you're ready to be back here tomorrow."

"Yep, guess I should."

"Goodnight, Sookie." She turned and walked off into the darkness.

"Night, Pam." I walked to my own car, unlocked the door and got in. I felt a little fuzzy in the brain, and hoped I could make it home in one piece. The roads out here weren't always the best during the day and at night those pot-holes just seemed to grow as big as craters.

I started the engine and drove around the building, and then pulled out into the road. I reflected back on my night. I was tired, foot-sore and bone weary. I'd been shouted at, called Blondie repeatedly, and had to deal with seeing my neighbours and family treat me as nothing more than the hired help, while feeling sorry for themselves about the fact they were doing it.

But I'd survived it all. I hadn't quit, and I hadn't been fired, even if my boss thought I was a little odd. And I'd helped out Jane Bodehouse. So, all in all, I felt pretty good about myself right then. I had high hopes that the next night would be a little easier and that, eventually, I'd be whizzing about just like Dawn and Ginger.

There was just one thing I was worried about, although maybe worried was too strong a term. Parts of my odd conversation with Pam were still dancing around in my brain, and I wasn't sure how much of it all I'd imagined. I was tired and maybe making things up. Mostly, I just wished I could get rid of the nagging feeling that the club Pam and I had started was actually the Eric Northman Appreciation Society.

**Thanks for reading!**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N Oh my goodness! I really did not expect this to take this long, but it's been a busy time of year. Thanks to everyone who has still been favoriting and alerting and reviewing this in the meantime, confident I'd get there in the end. Hope this finds you well and that you're all settling in to enjoy a nice day with your loved ones.**

**Merry Christmas and may Santa be very kind!**

**Disclaimer: If they turn up under the tree, then I'm calling it. Until then, this is a long-term rental arrangement.**

I really liked earning money again. At least, that's what I told myself. Repeatedly. During all the moments where I felt like I was never going to get the hang of waitressing, every time Long Shadow leered, or Dawn jeered or I just felt tired and foot-sore and didn't want to stand around any longer getting things for other people, the one thing that kept me going was the simple fact that I liked the security that I got from my paycheck and my tips.

It became my mantra as I pulled on one of the t-shirts every night to go to work. Well, every night except Wednesdays. My refusal to work that night had confused Long Shadow when I'd first had to explain it to him. "It's my dance class," I said. "Wednesday nights."

"You a dancer?" he asked me.

"Burlesque."

"You working at Hooligan's as well?" He stepped back to get a better look at me. The worst thing was that it wasn't just lust I could see in his eyes. He almost looked respectful, like there was more to me than he thought. Maybe I wasn't just a not always very good at it waitress, maybe I was a big drawcard at some strip-club down in Monroe?

Or maybe he was just thinking we could bring more drinkers in if he got me to dance on the bar. It was hard to tell with Long Shadow. And yet, he was still easier to deal with than Eric, who only appeared occasionally in the bar to look at us all meaningfully, and then look at the customers even more meaningfully, and then disappear out into his office again. He was like the Phantom of Vic's Redneck Roadhouse or something.

But if Eric was a phantom then Jane Bodehouse was, well, something akin to my new best friend. Since the first night, when I'd called Marvin to come and get her, she'd decided to attach herself to me whenever she was in, which thankfully wasn't every night.

It might have been easier to deal with if she didn't insist on calling me Tara all the time.

I tried to correct her, but it didn't seem to want to take in her brain. Pam tried as well, one night when she was at the bar next to Jane. "You know that's Sookie don't you?"

Jane gave Pam a look that suggested total surprise, almost as though she'd forgotten for a moment she wasn't actually in her own living room and she couldn't figure out how the lamp was now talking to her. "Oh…Sookie? Nice gal, that."

"_That_ girl. Right there." Pam pointed a finger, tipped with a perfect pink-polished nail, at me. I continued trying to get all the bottles of beer I needed to carry on my tray along with the three baskets of fries I was already carrying.

"She's real nice," Jane agreed, and Pam stood down. "That Tara." I gave up and went back to waiting tables.

I was getting better at it, I was sure I was. Sure, the first few nights I'd stumbled around trying to manage it all, but now it was almost like I'd been doing this for a long time.

Ginger passed me and touched my arm. "Watch out for that table," she said, nodding at a group of men who'd just arrived and seated themselves in my section. "They're a little rowdy."

I nodded to show I understood, although they didn't look that bad to me. Truth be told they barely looked old enough to drink legally. Surely they couldn't be that much of a problem?

I walked over to their table and greeted them with my most professional smile. "What can I get for you gentlemen tonight?"

The three men, well, boys really, stopped talking and jostling each other and turned to look at me. "You'll do for a start," one of them said, and then he laughed, before turning to his buddies who laughed along with him.

Yeah, yeah. It wasn't anything I hadn't heard a few dozen times by this point in my waitressing career. I kept smiling in the hope they would hurry up and just place an order.

"I dunno," one of the guys said. He was wearing a blue tank-top that had seen better days; there were so many holes in it I was surprised it could stay together.

"Something to drink, perhaps?" I suggested. "We got beer, and cocktails, and Cokes." I plastered the smile back on my face, determined that if I got a tip, and_ if_ was probably the operative word in regards to the tipping habits of this trio, I would know it was because I was pleasant to deal with.

And not due to the fact I wore tiny shorts and my t-shirt tied up under my bust like Dawn did.

"We'll have beer," another one of the men said. He was wearing a baseball cap turned backwards and had a scraggly beard that looked like it hadn't grown in properly.

"Any preference?" I tried.

"Lots," Scraggly beard, said, like that was a given. "Lots of beer."

"Coming right up." I turned and walked to the bar to place the order. Long Shadow looked over my shoulder as I did so.

"You card them?" he asked.

"What? Oh. No." Damn it, I just hadn't thought about it. If they were in here, surely they'd know if they were old enough to drink…or maybe they'd just hope no one would check. I'd have to ask.

I walked back to the table and tried to attract their attention. They were all fixated on watching Dawn pick up a dropped napkin on the other side of the room.

"Hey…so, I just wondered if I could see some I.D.?" I asked the backs of their heads. After a moment, the one in the dirty tank top turned around and looked at me. "Say, what?"

"I.D. Can you show me some?"

I'd finally attracted the attention of both his buddies as well, and I guessed the guy in the tank top realised this, because his next move was surely calculated to ensure he kept all eyes on the table on him.

He stood up, looked me in the eye, and started to unzip his pants. "I got something to show you right here," he said, the challenge in his eyes unmistakeable.

I glanced down at his hand and then back up to his face. "Now you know that ain't what I mean."

"Maybe it's what you need, though," he said, sitting back down, but looking at his buddies who shrugged and mumbled something about how uptight I was.

I decided to lay down the law. "No I.D. No beer." I made a good attempt at staring him down, following the one piece of useful advice that Jason had ever given me; when faced with bullies or stray dogs, don't back down and don't show fear.

There was a moment when I thought my tactic might have backfired, but, after a beat or two, dirty tank-top started to pull out his wallet and his buddies took his lead and did the same. "Aw, girlie. We were just havin' fun. You need to loosen up a little!" he said, as he handed me his driver's licence.

I didn't respond. I just made a great show of studying his licence, then straggly beard's, then the one belonging to the third guy. And then I handed them all back. "I'll be right back with your drinks." I was keeping it polite, I was keeping it professional.

I was really hoping they'd have one beer and leave.

When I got back to the bar Long Shadow gave me an inquisitive look. "They upsetting you?" he asked.

I was still following Jason's advice. Don't show fear. "Nah, I'm OK. They're just over-grown teenagers, really." I collected up the pitcher of beer and glasses Long Shadow passed across the bar and put them on the tray I was carrying.

Pam slid off her barstool, and came over to me. "It's no good, Sookie. I've tried, but you'll simply have to change your name to Tara!" Her tone was bright and breezy, but there were big dark circles in the pale skin under her eyes.

"You OK, Pam?" I asked her, and she waved me away with her hand. "Oh, I'm just splendid, Sookie." Then she paused and nodded at the table I was about to return to. "You just let me know if I can be of any assistance over there. I'm an excellent bouncer."

I was taking that statement with a grain of salt, but I thanked Pam anyway, and watched her retreat out the door to the back of the bar before I headed over with the beer.

"Thank the lord, I'm parched!" the guy with the scraggly beard declared at my arrival, before looking to his buddies for their approval.

"I'm sorry you were kept waiting," I said, just like I'd once done when I'd been on the phone to a supplier and I'd had to go away to look up something about their account.

"You got any entertainment happenin' tonight?" the third man asked me, as I placed the beers on the tables. He'd been the quietest out of the three of them so far, and he was also the most nondescript, or, perhaps he was just less straggly and dirty than his companions. Either way, I hadn't been giving him much notice up to this point.

"No," I said.

"Used to be real good entertainment here," he continued on. "Like contests and such like. They don't do them no more?"

"We don't," I said, making the decision that it wasn't something Eric would go in for. Just like I used to sometimes make the decision about whether we would ask for a credit note there and then, or wait and have a discount off our next order. Strictly speaking, those were decisions I should have referred to Sam, but he trusted my judgement and let me have free rein. Up to a point, anyway.

I had no idea if Eric trusted my judgement, so maybe that was another decision I was making on his behalf. I just knew that I was tired and didn't want to deal with these men any longer than was necessary. Give them their beer, and then move on. That was my aim.

But maybe I'd been dwelling a little too much in my past and not enough in my present. That's my excuse, anyway, for not seeing what was happening until it was too late.

The full pitcher of beer hit me square in the chest.

"Now, that's what I'm talkin' about!" the third man said, gleefully. "Wet t-shirt contest!"

I looked down at my now-drenched shirt in disbelief, and then I turned on my heel and walked straight towards the door to the back of the bar, ignoring both the cat-calls and whoops of the patrons, and Long Shadow's question of "Sookie?" as I passed him.

Once in the corridor the door led to, I kept on walking, to where I don't know. I didn't get very far, though, before I just about ran smack bang into Eric, who was coming out of his office.

He looked at me, his gaze travelling from my soaked attire, up to my face, which I'm certain was red enough to blaze my fury out to all and sundry, and back down again. And then he spoke, "What did you do?"

It was probably the worst thing he could have said under the circumstances.

"What did _I_ do?"

"You're very wet." Eric eyed my t-shirt critically, like I had deliberately ruined the look of the uniform he'd carefully designed.

"Eric, I _am_ very wet, and do you know why?" I didn't really pause to give him a chance to answer. "Because your patrons are so bereft of entertainment in this establishment that they decided to start their own wet t-shirt contest. Apparently, I won. And, as you can tell, I'm just tickled-pink about that. So thrilled, in fact, that I'm not sure you pay me enough for all the excitement I have to endure out there in the bar." I stopped talking, but I was mighty pleased with my tirade, especially as I'd had the chance to throw in a few good words from the Word of the Day calendar I'd received from Arlene. Bereft, I was particularly proud of.

Eric's expression didn't change much, though. I don't think he was as impressed with my vocabulary. He had been watching the tray I was still holding slightly warily as I'd used it to help make my point, but his eyes now flicked back to me. "These would be the patrons who indirectly pay your wages and then leave you tips?" he asked me.

"I don't think there's a tip big enough to cover this." I pointed to my chest, and then realised what that looked like, so I dropped my hand. It was bad enough you could now clearly make out the lace edging on the bra I had underneath, I didn't think I really needed to draw Eric's attention to it in that way.

"You'll have to get another shirt," Eric said, and he turned to go back into his office. I followed him and waited while he rummaged around on the shelves that ran floor to ceiling behind his desk. I was starting to get a little chilly now, and I wished he would hurry up. I put down my tray and then, crossing my arms over my body, I glanced at his computer monitor and noticed idly that he was using the same accounting program we'd used at Herveaux Fine Furnishings.

But no good came of wishing I was back there. My attention had to be on the moment, and I snapped back to watching Eric push things around, while muttering and cursing under his breath.

Eventually, he pulled out a new t-shirt. "It's a large. It'll have to do."

Well, that I couldn't argue with. I took the t-shirt and walked to the employee bathroom off the stockroom, making sure I locked the door carefully behind me. It wasn't that I felt unsafe; it was just that it never hurt to be cautious, did it?

I pulled off my beer-soaked t-shirt and put it on the toilet. My bra was decidedly damp too but, as I didn't have a spare one, and I wasn't prepared to work while bra-less, I would have to make do. I wiped myself down with the paper towels, and then I took the new t-shirt out of its package, quickly slipped off my bra, before throwing the clean t-shirt over my head.

My bra I dried as best I could under the hand-dryer. I knew I'd end up smelling of beer, but there wasn't a way around that. When it was done I slipped it back on under the t-shirt, and then made a knot in one side of the t-shirt to get rid of some of the excess fabric.

At least it was now harder to read the word Redneck.

I opened the door to the storeroom and, after stashing the old t-shirt in my locker, walked back out to the corridor. I took a deep breath and was about to head back out to the bar to face the men who'd tried to humiliate me.

But then I got part-way to the door and realised I'd left my tray in Eric's office.

For a moment, I stood rooted to the spot. I could just get another one from the little area beside the bar where they were stacked up with the spare condiments. But, there was a part of me that wanted to show Eric I was OK and I was going back out there to do my job, and I wasn't just a member of staff who complained about the slightest thing going wrong for her.

So I turned on my heel and walked back to Eric's office, and knocked on the door. There was no answer.

I tried again. Still nothing. I sighed. It was just my luck to pick one of the rare moments Eric had decided to tour the bar and remind us all that he was in charge.

I was about to leave when I heard the door from the bar open, and Eric walked through it saying "Just get it done," over his shoulder. When he turned my way, he frowned slightly at seeing me standing outside his office.

Trying to shake the feeling that I was nothing more than a kid who'd been sent to the principal's office for being difficult, I smiled at him. It didn't get returned.

"I just wanted to collect my tray," I said, as I stepped aside to let Eric open the office door.

"Tray?"

"Yes. I left it in here, before."

Eric didn't say anything in reply; he simply walked through the door. Figuring that he had left it open and not shut it in my face for a reason, I followed him inside.

"I asked Long Shadow to get rid of them," Eric announced, as I came to the side of his desk and picked up the tray I'd left propped there.

"Of?"

"Those men. I didn't need the hassle."

Oh. Well I guess that was nice. "Or any law-suits?" I asked.

"Well I was slightly worried that if one of them got hit with a tray by an irate waitress, there might be repercussions."

Eric's words hung in the air for a moment while I worked through them in my head. Was that him being funny?

"I don't think my temper is quite that lethal," I said.

"Sookie, after the way you were swinging the tray around in the corridor earlier, when you were explaining to me the singular lack of entertainment for our customers, I'm surprised I'm still in one piece."

"Well, Eric. If you had been the one to douse me in beer you might have been in trouble. Your only crime is making me wear something that has Redneck written on it. Thank-you for providing the customers with a reason to stare at my chest every time I take their order." I paused and ran back over what I'd said. Had that, in fact, gone too far?

And was I flirting with Eric?

Eric narrowed his eyes slightly. Uh-oh, I thought. This has to be bad. "Oh, I'm sure they're not looking at you purely for their edification," he said raising his eyebrows at me.

Now that was flirty, wasn't it? I was pretty sure it was.

While I was having an internal debate about the ethics of flirting with your boss, and running through several disaster scenarios in my head, Eric lost interest in me and turned back to his computer. He started hitting keys and muttering, and, once I snapped out of my mental cataloguing of every possible situation in which I was left jobless and humiliated because I'd once flirted with Eric, I noticed that after every mutter, he turned to look at his printer.

"You need to press shift and F5 together," I said, which was clearly not what Eric was expecting me to say. He looked up sharply. "To print a list of invoices loaded but not paid. I mean, if that's what you were trying to do…" I trailed off.

"What do you know?" Eric asked, and his voice was completely different to how it had been just moments earlier. There had almost been some warmth in there, when he'd been teasing me about my temper. Now there was nothing but pure ice.

I couldn't understand how someone could transition so comprehensively from one minute to the next. I'd almost liked the guy who thought I might take out my bullies with a tray. I didn't like this guy. I was actually a little afraid of this guy.

I was starting to move away from the ethics of flirting with your boss and on to the practicalities of hitting your boss over the head with a tray if it looked like he might want to murder you.

"I just know this program. The one you're using. We had it. At my last job. Where I was an accounts clerk, like I said in my interview." I worked hard on making sure my voice was unwavering and my meaning was clear.

It seemed to work. Eric's shoulders visibly dropped downwards, and he reminded me a little of a hunting dog when it stops being on high-alert and starts looking more like the family pet again.

Not that I was taking Eric in as a pet anytime soon. Not even if he followed me home.

Eric pressed some keys, and the printer whirred to life. Eric watched as several sheets of paper came out, before he gathered them up and checked them over. "So how do I select a date-range?" he queried.

OK. Well at least it looked like he had decided not to do away with me because he'd figured out I was useful. I moved so I was standing next to him, and pointed at the screen. "See that little box? You click it, and it brings up a calendar, and you select the days. And then, if you select that magnifying glass, there, you can do a lookup for a particular supplier if you want, by name or vendor code, or whatever you've got."

I moved my arm and looked at Eric. "You smell distinctly of beer," he stated.

"Well, yes." There was no denying that fact after I'd been covered in the stuff earlier. "You got any other questions?"

Eric looked thoughtful for a moment, and then he sat back in his chair and turned his head to look at me. "You know," he said. "I do."

So I spent the next half an hour happily showing Eric all the things I could make that program do. We printed out statements, we looked at the bank reconciliation which, I noted with some disapproval, wasn't up to date, we checked on the cash-flow statements and I even managed to produce an asset listing for him, although, as Eric said, it didn't look right.

I was feeling mighty pleased with myself and not at all guilty about not being out in the bar. Not even when Dawn came crashing through the door and said "Hey, Eric…" only to be cut off by Eric saying "Not now. Please leave," did I feel the slightest twinge of guilt.

Well, maybe that isn't strictly true. There was a pang when Dawn spluttered and Eric said "I need some waitresses who are waitressing, so go now," and Dawn gave me a look that would have turned a lesser woman to stone, and marched out again, pointedly not shutting the door behind her. When that all happened I wondered about Ginger and how she was getting on, while at the same time not looking forward to my return to the bar where I would be a target for Dawn's ire.

But I ploughed on, helping out my boss because he needed me. It felt OK, to be working with Eric. Sure he was a bit lighter on the praise than Sam had been and he wasn't a particularly patient person. If I failed to produce the desired screen or report on my first attempt I'd find myself bodily shoved out of the way while Eric grabbed the mouse and declared "I'll just do it myself," but once you realised he was more bark than bite it wasn't so bad.

Let's just say that it still didn't mean I'd keep him as a pet, but I wasn't adverse to spending time in his yard with him.

When Eric had run out of questions I was summarily dismissed. "I think you can go back to your job now," he said.

"Oh. OK then. Glad to have been of service." I wasn't lying; it had been nice finding something to do around here that I was actually good at from the get-go.

Eric gave me a skeptical look. "No, I mean…well. I used to do this kind of stuff all the time," I explained. "So anytime you need help, you just holler."

"I think…no. I'm sorry. I don't," Eric said.

"Oh. Well maybe something will come up and you'll need a bit of help." I tried not to be too disappointed.

"No. I don't holler. But I'm sure I could use more help, Sookie."

"OK," I agreed, aware that Eric's statement had me almost bouncing on my toes. Had I been that starved of simple office-work that I was desperate to sit in a room with a man who alternately ignored me and teased me?

Apparently I was.

Eric didn't need my help for the next week or so though, so things at work were much the same as ever. Dawn had taken a real dislike to me now, however, and even others at the bar had started to notice it. "You not given table 3 their pickles yet? You won't be getting much of a tip unless you start working your ass off like the rest of us. You can't spend the whole shift just wandering around on half-speed," Dawn said, as we both went to the serving hatch to collect food at the same time. Then she flounced off with the basket of fries she'd just picked up.

I carefully loaded my tray under Lafayette's watchful gaze. "You just ignore that Dawn, Sookie. She thinks she runs this place just 'cos she's got a wiggling behind and an attitude. Ain't nothin' special about her."

"And everyone knows it's really you in charge, ain't that right?" I asked him, and he broke out into a broad smile.

"Oh, you knows it, Sookie. Without me, whatcha all gonna do? Ain't nothin' to feed them hungry customers with now is there?" And, still laughing, he turned away and called to D'Eriq "Hey, you about done with those fries?" and I took my fried pickles over to the elderly couple at table 3.

But Dawn I could deal with. Her ire didn't seem to amount to much more than a few angry words here and there, and, as the days wore on and her nightly visits to Eric's office after a shift was over continued unabated, she seemed to cool off a little.

They seemed a funny pairing, Eric and Dawn. I couldn't imagine what they had to talk about, but then, I guess, talking maybe wasn't the real point of their relationship. Eric didn't seem to have a lot of time for Dawn when she wasn't visiting his office, and he made a point of almost ignoring her when he came out into the bar. He'd check in with Long Shadow, look around at the number of customers, and then walk around a little, maybe stick his head in the kitchen (although I don't think he ever set foot all the way inside it), and then ask me or maybe Ginger how things were going.

And then, one night, Ginger said to me "When Eric comes out, you tell him that we need to get more napkins as we're about out in the storeroom. Also, I got customers been asking about food specials, and whether we got any, and I said as much to Lafayette, but he said he can't do nothing without approval from the boss-man. So you can ask him." She nodded, satisfied she'd delivered her message.

I was a little bamboozled, to say the least. "Well, can't you tell him? When he checks on how it's all going?"

"Oh, no hon. He don't ask me like he asks you. When he talks to me, it's just to see if I've done anything I shouldn't'a done. When he talks to you, he kinda listens, you know? Like the other night, when you said that we needed to stack the menus somewhere else, because behind the bar we just got all jammed up with Long Shadow every time we needed some? And he listened, 'cos next night, where were they, right there by the ketchup bottles. And I think Dawn'd said the same thing weeks ago, so you're the better…what'cha call it? Spokesmodel?"

"Spokesperson." I hadn't realised that's what I was.

"Yeah. So you just let him know, OK?" Ginger gave me a bright smile and walked off to give that same smile to the customers who had just seated themselves in her section.

OK. So I was the official liaison between the waitresses and management…was I? I had enjoyed helping Eric with his accounts, but trying to tell him how the bar should be run. I mean, there was a bar manager? Shouldn't that be Long Shadow's job?

While I waited on my tables I pondered the implications of going over Long Shadow's head. I remember how much I hadn't appreciated it every time Jannalynn took a problem that I could have helped her with directly to Sam. Not only did it waste some of Sam's valuable time, it made me look bad.

No, there was nothing for it. If I'd been delegated this task, then I'd have to do this task the correct way. I'd have to talk to Long Shadow.

Maybe I'd do that when Pam was sitting at the bar.

Pam hadn't been around much though, not in the last few days. And, when I had seen her, she'd looked even more tired. And thin. I mean, Pam was not the biggest person to look at anyway, but when she wore a tight, sleeveless navy dress into the bar and shucked off the white blazer that she'd been wearing over it, you could see that her bones stuck out and her arms were little more than twigs.

I was worried about her, but I didn't know what to say to her. I certainly couldn't confess to over-hearing a snatch of conversation between Pam and Eric the night before when Eric had asked her how she was and Pam had replied by saying "I'm good, but he's not coping and the family is not making it easier for him. I feel like I should go back…just for a while. I can't…I don't want to be responsible, but I am. She would have wanted it."

I had no idea what any of that meant, so I put it out of my mind and concentrated on steeling myself to face Long Shadow. I had no idea why I found him so off-putting, after all the Blondie thing wasn't the worst I'd ever heard, and he'd all but cut that out now. At least, when other people were around to hear him, he had.

But there was just something I couldn't put my finger on. He was watching me, I was sure of it. And I had no idea why I'd attracted his attention to quite the degree I had.

Unless he was worried about me trying to take his job away. I realised I was doing nothing more than talking myself out of facing him, and now was not the time for endless internal debate. It was time for action, simple as that.

I took a deep breath, tucked my tray under my arm, and walked over to the bar. Long Shadow was standing there, with both hands propped on it and he remained as still as a statue as I approached.

"What can I do for you, Tara?" he asked.

"You know Jane's a little mixed-up, don't start that on me now," I said, trying to put a laugh in my voice as though this were a joke between friends. Long Shadow just shrugged. "I know nothing. Thought maybe it was your real name and you're here under false pretences."

I tried, but I simply couldn't formulate a bright and breezy response to that comment. So I just left it.

"Anyway, I got some suggestions from the other waitresses. I thought maybe you might like to hear them, and then you could discuss them with Eric."

"Like you moving the menus?"

"Well, something like that."

"I get real lonely now I don't have you girls visiting me." Long Shadow managed to raise a smile for that comment, and it wasn't a pleasant one. Though he'd never tried it on me, I knew that Ginger had been the recipient of more than one slap to the behind when she was trying to retrieve some menus. She laughed it off as horseplay between co-workers but I had wondered just how much fun it really was for her.

"Well, we still visit over here. We just don't invade your personal space," I said.

Long Shadow gave me a long look. "You can share my personal space anytime you feel the need, Sookie."

He was trying to bait me, I could tell. He wanted me to squeal and say he was doing bad things and go running to Eric. And I wouldn't, so I was just going to press on.

"As I said, there's been a suggestion about having dinnertime specials on the menu? Several of the customers have asked about them."

Long Shadow looked bored. "That ain't my area," he said. "I'm bar manager, not a chef. You need to talk to Lafayette." He scowled in the direction of the door to the kitchen. There didn't seem to be a lot of love lost between Long Shadow and Lafayette and I'd rarely seen them interacting.

"Well, uh…I think he's been approached. But he needed approval, from higher up the management chain." I waited for Long Shadow's response.

"That ain't me." He sounded a little disgruntled about that. "You need Eric."

"Oh. You don't mind? If I take it to him?"

Long Shadow shrugged again, and then picked up a cloth and started wiping it across the bar in a great show of nonchalance. "I just do what needs doing. Eric's the decision-maker." He stopped looking at the bar and looked at me. "And he gets to take care of the waitresses too." There was a challenge in his gaze, like maybe he thought I was doing the same as Dawn, messing around with Eric under the pretence of work.

"Well, I ain't like some others," I muttered, not wanting to name names and come across as a nothing more than a gossip. "I just wanted to know what the chain of command was."

"You figure that out, you tell me too." Long Shadow turned his back to me, effectively dismissing me. I wondered whether I should mention the napkin situation, but decided against it. I'd deal with that later. Right now I had to follow through on the task I'd started. Next stop, Eric Northman.

I did a quick pass of my tables to make sure that everyone was up to date with drinks and condiments and, in the case of Sid Matt Lancaster who was dining by himself, a friendly chat about how hard it was cooking for only one and how much he missed Elva Deen's cooking. I felt real sorry for him, and it almost took my focus off my set task.

But eventually I could put it off no longer. I told Ginger I was going on a short break, and I stowed my tray, before I headed out the back and straight to Eric's office, where his door was open, but he was nowhere in sight.

Well, that was a little odd. And downright inconvenient for me.

I paused, wondering if I should go in and maybe leave him a note about wanting to speak to him, like I would have done at my old job. I just didn't know how Eric would take me waltzing into his office uninvited when he wasn't around. My gut instinct told me it wouldn't go down well.

But then I realised I could hear his voice. It was coming from the end of the corridor, out in the employee parking lot.

I followed the sound, even though I knew he was probably busy and didn't need to be disturbed about offering special items on the menu right about then. And, as I got closer, I could hear that he indeed sounded very busy. He was deep in conversation with Duff, the beer delivery guy.

"I said they'll get their money next week. It's Friday afternoon, I simply can't do it any sooner than that," Eric said, sounding very annoyed.

Duff looked at the ground, rather than Eric. "Yeah. But m'boss said, they don't give you a check, you don't give them their beer. I can't leave it."

"No one uses checks these days," Eric spluttered. "I am simply asking for you, and your employer, to leave this consignment on good faith knowing full well that I will get you your money next week."

"I can't say nothin' about good faith," Duff replied, looking mighty uncomfortable with what was going on.

I shuffled a little closer so I could get a look at Eric's face. He was looking terribly annoyed with the proceedings. I didn't blame Duff for looking uncomfortable.

"Really?" Eric asked, a rather unattractive sneer in his voice. "Is this how you treat all your customers?"

"I just do what I'm told." Duff sounded a little like a kid trying to put the blame elsewhere. Eric wasn't having a bar of that.

"And does your company's management know that you refuse to deliver to loyal customers simply over a misunderstanding over payment? I cannot believe that this is the kind of customer service they would pride themselves on. I should also think they would be quite interested in hearing just how poorly you have treated us, and, I would like to point out, that I have had no communication regarding this outstanding amount, until now." Eric's face was turning a nice shade of red. Duff's was too, but probably for other reasons entirely. It was time for me to intervene.

"Hey, fellas," I said, and Eric whirled around to look at me. Duff just kept staring at the ground. I kinda wished I'd brought that tray with me.

I decided to ignore Eric for the moment. "How're you doing Duff?" I asked the delivery man.

His eyes flicked up to me, and then to Eric, and then quickly back down again. I was acutely aware of Eric standing next to me, and the barely tamped-down rage he was emanating. It was like standing next to a snarling dog and wondering how long that leash was going to hold.

"Oh, I'm doin' all right there, Sookie. Can't complain, none." Well, I thought Duff probably could complain right at that moment, and I thought it was testimony to his sense of self-preservation that he chose not to.

"Your wife back from her mother's yet?" I'd had a couple of conversations with Duff as he'd made his deliveries, usually when I'd been out back getting some air. He seemed pleasant enough, and always happy to talk about his family. He'd been missing his wife something awful though, I knew that about the guy. She'd been away looking after a sick mother in Jackson, and he'd found it hard going managing two kids at school and still making all his deliveries.

"Uh, she come back on Monday. Kids're pleased as punch. Say my mac'n cheese dinners just ain't cutting it!" He chuckled a little at that, then remembered Eric was there, and quickly put a lid on it.

"I would just like to say…" Eric began, but I held up a finger to him. "Hush a little for a moment, would you Eric?" I said, in my sweetest voice.

Eric stopped talking but it was mighty obvious it was only a matter of moments before he was off the leash and I didn't think he'd hesitate to take me out as collateral damage while he dealt to poor Duff.

And I really did feel for the guy. Sometimes it sucked being the messenger.

"So, it's our turn for a delivery tonight?" I asked Duff. He nodded. "We're sure mighty glad of that, we've got a big weekend planned, haven't we Eric?"

Eric nodded, some of the anger in his eyes being replaced by curiosity. I hoped.

"There's that party coming in from, what did Long Shadow say, Louisiana Tech? That's right, ain't it? Yeah, they'll be real big tippers and I'm sure I'll be happy when I'm going home that night. In this economy, I just got bills piling up on bills, you know what I mean, Duff?"

"I surely do. My wife might be back, but her car, it ain't done so well on its journey. Needs a new cam-belt and you know once they start pulling things outta the engine, they don't stop 'til they've emptied your wallet."

"Oh, my! That does sound like it'd be real expensive. I don't envy you. My car, well, you can see my car over there." I nodded in its direction. "I'm just hoping it don't break down because how else am I gonna get to work? And I only get paid if I'm at work, now don't I?"

"Oh yeah. Can't none of us afford to lose wages."

"Nuh-uh. So, as I said, we're mighty glad for this delivery as it'll mean we can all keep on doing our jobs. And you know that little payment mix-up, well Eric'll personally make sure it's all fixed up on Monday, won't you Eric?" Eric gave a brief nod. "So now that you know the boss himself is looking into it, I think you can just roll our beer on into the storeroom for us, and we'll see you next week. You can tell me all about the special dinner your wife fixed for you this weekend!" I finished with a bright smile.

Duff broke into a full smile for the first time since I'd arrived out here. "How'd you know she was fixing to do that now, Sookie?" he asked me.

"Well, why wouldn't she?" I laughed. "Sure, you've been lonely, but I bet she's been missing you like crazy over in Jackson."

Duff smiled and blushed at once. "Yeah, OK Sookie. Let's get this beer inside and I'll let the boss know it'll all be sorted out next week."

"You do that, Duff. We'll be mighty appreciative of it. And, the next time you want to treat your wife to a night off from the cooking, you bring her in here. On the house." I glanced sideways at Eric, who raised his eyebrows, but didn't comment.

Duff looked pleased as punch. "OK. I'll do that. She'd be thrilled; she was just saying she ain't had a night off for so long." And then he turned and walked to the back of his truck and started opening up the big doors, ready to unload our delivery.

Eric and I stood and watched him in silence. I wondered what Eric thought of my solution to his problem, but he made no comment, he just watched Duff.

When the beer had been wheeled inside on a hand-truck, and Duff had said a quick goodbye to Eric, and a rather more gushing goodbye to me, promising to see me soon when he brought his wife in, we watched him drive off in his truck.

I felt pleased with how that had turned out. I'd got our beer delivered and no one had ended up losing a job. I hoped.

"And that, my friend," I said to Eric. "Is how you do that. Enjoy your evening, and don't forget to tip your waitress." I turned and was about to make my rather grand exit back into the building, when Eric suddenly spoke. "Sookie?"

I turned back around. "Uh-huh?"

"Are we? Friends?" Eric looked puzzled and I wondered where he'd pulled that idea from. Then I realised what I'd said.

Were we friends?

"I guess we are, Eric." I hoped that was the right answer.

"That's…that's crazy, Sookie." Eric still looked puzzled by the whole turn of events.

"Well then, call me Crazy Sookie." That made Eric smile. "And no, you cannot slap me on the ass when you do that."

Eric chuckled, and it was nice sound. Kind of throaty and warm. "OK. I'll just have to think of something else to do then," he said. He'd managed to, once again, completely change his tone of voice when he said that. Now it was something akin to seductive.

I could almost imagine what Dawn saw in the man.

"Yeah, you do that, Eric. And while you're at it, ponder this. Customers have been asking for a special of the day; see what you think about introducing one." Once again, I turned on my heel and this time I made it in the door without Eric making further comment.

Well, I'd completed my task, so that felt good. And somewhere, in the middle of it all, I'd become friends with Eric Northman.

Who would have seen that coming?

**Thanks for reading! Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to you all!**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N Happy New Year! Hope you're all well and got to enjoy a break. For anyone who didn't see it, I wrote a story for the Sookie's Secret Santa exchange this year, called A Southern Fried Christmas, which I've now posted under my profile. I'd love for you to check it out if you haven't already.**

**Disclaimer: Not mine.**

From the time Eric and I became friends, things began to look up for me.

For one thing, I was starting to feel more like I was at home in my job. Granted, that could have possibly been something to do with the fact that I was getting a few opportunities to hang out in Eric's office, although hang out might be the wrong term for it. Perform a few simple tasks under Eric's watchful supervision might be the more correct wording.

"You sure you don't want me to give the bank reconciliation a once-over?" I asked him, one night when I was sitting there checking invoices off a printed list. I wasn't even allowed to sit at the computer for this; I had to sit at the side of the desk with the invoices, the print-out and a big, old pencil.

One day, when Eric was certain I wouldn't make any mistakes, maybe he'd let me graduate to using pen.

"No," Eric said, and then he thumped his keyboard hard a few times. And then, after a period long enough to let me know that it was a complete after-thought. "Thank-you."

I sighed. I'd been telling him that a little thanks goes a long way, but I was starting to realise that maybe Eric was raised in an Ikea. Or not around polite folk, anyhow.

Or maybe he just wasn't used to having someone working with him. It was something Pam pointed out to him when she popped her head into his office. "What are you doing tonight?" she asked me, looking over my shoulder at the print-out where I was making all the check marks.

"Checking these off," I said, refraining from complaining about the pencil I had to use. It wasn't even sharp, but I wasn't game to ask Eric if he had a pencil-sharpener, and I didn't have access to a stationery cupboard in order to get one myself.

For all I knew, all the stationery was kept under lock and key by Eric.

"Just make sure they absolutely match up," Eric said, scooting his chair around the desk so he was almost next to me. "See, there's that one?"

"Eric, has anyone ever said the words 'micro-managing' to you?" Pam asked, raising her beautifully arched eyebrows. Pam might still be looking tired and a little on the thin side, but I did like to think that it was a good sign that she hadn't yet let her personal grooming slide.

"Pam has anyone ever said the words 'butt out' to you," Eric said.

"Yes. When we were in your car yesterday, although I think your point was more about back seat driving."

"Exactly." Eric sounded like he thought he'd made a sound argument and was going to leave it at that. Pam sighed, but didn't press the matter. "I told you she'd be useful," she said, quite enigmatically, and then she walked out of the office.

I turned to Eric, who was still giving his computer monitor a very dirty look. "Does she really talk about me that much?"

Eric glanced at me. "A lot," he said.

"Oh." I wasn't sure what to make of that. It felt a little odd to think of Pam and Eric discussing me when I wasn't around. In between arguing about Eric's driving, I guessed. I tried not to feel too weird about it. But I did.

And then I looked back at Eric and his eyes met mine. Maybe he was feeling a little weird too. "Does she talk about me?" he asked.

"Um…oh…I guess…" I wasn't really sure what Eric wanted to hear, and I struggled to think of something to say that wasn't going to sound, well, like Pam had a weird crush on him and wanted him to waltz into the bar in a Viking helmet and take her away from all of this.

Hell, maybe she did. But if that was the case, it was going to be better coming from her, rather than me. That I was sure of.

In the meantime, Eric was still looking at me curiously. "What does she say?" he prompted.

"Oh, uh. Well, there was a suggestion that she may have got you from an Ikea." That made Eric burst into laughter. He was such a different person when he laughed, and when I made him laugh it was even better. It was like we were genuinely friends.

Maybe we were?

"That's not too far off the mark," Eric said. He started to turn back to his monitor, but I wasn't quite ready to go back to checking off invoices while he muttered and grumbled and generally made being in his office less than fun.

I wanted to have some fun.

"You don't look half-bad for flat-pack," I ventured, and he turned sideways to look at me again, one eyebrow kind of raised and an almost-smirk on his face.

Uh-oh. I realised I was treading on thin ice. I didn't know how on earth it happened, but anytime I was around Eric and the mood got lighter I did it. I flirted with him. I knew I shouldn't, I knew it was about the stupidest thing I could do, especially considering the Dawn situation, but I did it anyway.

And the worst part was that I only felt a little bit bad about it.

"So, I'm put together well, am I?" Eric asked.

"Oh, well if you're gonna fish for compliments, mister, it's not the same." I gave him a stern look. "But I'll just say that I can't hardly see those bolts in your neck, so I think you'll pass."

Eric laughed again, and then fixed me with a look that had me both excited and worried. It seemed like he might be about to return the compliment…or something, anyway. I felt like a sophomore who'd somehow attracted the attention of the quarterback and couldn't believe her luck.

And then I realised who exactly I was getting all hot under the collar for and I gave myself a mental kick in the behind. It was Eric. He was my boss. I couldn't sit in here and wait for him to tell me how lovely he thought I was.

I should be happy with him telling me I'd done a good job and want nothing more than that. Not from Eric, anyway. That way lay nothing but a whole lot of heartache.

It was quite plain that all the attention from Eric hadn't made Dawn's life any easier. If anything, he was more dismissive of her in the bar, and, on occasions, downright rude to her. And then there was all the time she clearly spent worrying about the fact I was in here with Eric, and her blatant attempts to try to mark her territory by bursting in every so often to update us on how busy it was in the bar.

No, I didn't think that situation would suit me at all. And I couldn't imagine things leading any other way.

As it was, I never did get to hear what Eric was going to say to me because Dawn did, indeed, choose that moment to arrive in the office. "Hey, Eric," she said, completely ignoring my presence. Well, that was preferable to when she did pay attention to me, out in the bar, away from everyone else.

That was attention I could definitely do without.

"So, uh…we could do with a little help out there. We're getting kinda busy, and Ginger's been behind the bar this whole time, and, well, you know what Danielle's like. Kinda slow." Those last two words were directed more towards me than to Eric. Yeah, I got her meaning. I wasn't much of a waitress in Dawn's opinion.

But it wasn't Dawn's opinion I really cared about.

Eric sighed, and frowned, and looked like a little boy about to be dragged off to church by his mama. "So if Sookie goes out you'll be OK?"

"Oh. No. I think you gotta come too," Dawn explained. "So we can get Ginger back."

Eric didn't seem to really like that idea. "I'll be out…soon," he said, and he went back to looking very intently at his monitor. I considered myself dismissed and followed Dawn back out of the office.

"I can't see why he needs you so much," she complained. "'Specially on the nights Long Shadow isn't here. It's just ridiculous. It puts so much pressure on the rest of us, and you know that Danielle can't hardly cope with it being busy. She's only ever useful as another pair of hands. And Ginger likes being behind the bar a little too much. She ain't coming out from there unless someone sets a fire under her ass."

"Uh-huh." I figured I was better off agreeing with her.

"And then you just disappear off to go and moon all over Eric. He don't like that, you know?" She made it sound as though she was the kindly older sister giving me the benefit of her experience with boys. But there was a hard edge to her voice and her face had an unattractive twist to the mouth, as though she'd tried to swallow something bitter.

I decided I could do without agreeing with Dawn and her ideas of what Eric did and didn't like. After all he was my friend, and he was only her…what, exactly, I wasn't sure.

But they sure didn't seem friendly.

Out in the bar things were indeed busy. As I went over to get some drinks from Ginger, she complained that she didn't mind filling in for Long Shadow on his night off, but she felt real bad for not being able to help the rest of us with the customers.

"Oh, it's not so bad," I told her. "I think we can manage."

Ginger shrugged. "Might be different if we could get Eric out here. You sure he'll be out soon?"

It was my turn to shrug at that. "I couldn't hardly say."

"Well, you go tell him we need him."

"Uh-huh. Yeah." I acted like it was a done deal, but really, I wasn't going back there to rouse Eric. Surely he'd figure out on his own that we needed him and make an appearance? Or at least come out to check stuff over and see what was going on?

In the meantime I concentrated on my customers. Jason and Hoyt were in again, so I was stuck with a brother who thought he came before every other person in the place and kept yelling "Sook! Sook! 'nother beer!" like I had nothing else to do apart from run around after him.

So that left me apologising to Michele Schubert who was in with her husband. "Don't mind him," I said, nodding over at Jason. "And I'm sorry I kept you both waiting." Michele had been staring in Jason's direction as he'd loudly, and rudely, tried to signal to me that he needed me to come over.

"Oh," Michele said, looking at me through slightly dazed eyes. "No…I mean, it's no bother." I took their order and pretended not to notice the fact that Michele and her husband looked everywhere except at each other. She'd been to burlesque classes a couple of times and I got the impression that she was making an attempt to re-ignite her marriage. I didn't think it was working.

But if Michele was having an unsuccessful date night, then Kenya Jones and Kevin Pryor were having quite the opposite. They were both serving members of the Bon Temps police force and to look at, they were chalk and cheese. But that sure didn't stop them having eyes only for each other, it took me several moments to even get their attention so I could take their order.

It was just a shame they had to hide out here so the prying eyes of Kevin's mother didn't see them together. I guess maybe Vic's Redneck Roadhouse had its uses, and one of them was for under the radar romantic assignations.

I'd have to have a good long think about what the other ones were.

I was getting things under control, if under control was the right word when I was running back and forth around the place, and then Amelia showed up and sat down at my section. "What'll you have?" I asked her.

"Oh. Beer." She didn't seem to be too enthusiastic about that. "No Pam?" she asked.

"Well, she was around…but she went out. I think."

"Oh." Amelia looked a little crestfallen. "Say, you got time to take a break and sit with me a while?" she asked.

"Um…" I looked around. It was still busy, and Ginger was still stuck behind the bar. I wasn't sure. "I'll try." It was really the best I could do.

Amelia looked a little like I'd kicked her puppy this time. "Oh. OK," she said. I felt bad, even though I knew she was trying to make me feel bad and really I should just feel played.

"I'll see what I can do. I really will. I mean, I'm due a break soon."

Amelia brightened a little. "That'd be great. We can catch up," she said.

About half an hour later, things quietened down enough for me to tell Ginger I was joining Amelia for a break. Sure, Dawn gave me the evil eye and Danielle didn't exactly look thrilled either, but I wasn't living my life to please them.

Apparently, I was living it to please Amelia.

"So…speaking of Pam," I began. "What do you think is up with her?"

"Up?" Amelia looked puzzled. "Well…I dunno."

"But don't you think she's been a little off? And she's looking…I don't know. Under the weather, perhaps." I had hoped Amelia would be able to shine some light, that maybe she knew Pam a little better than me and could explain the background to me.

I had my hopes dashed.

"Oh no. Pam's fine. Great even. Me, on the other hand. I'm fed up, Sookie. I thought it was going to be fun out here in Bon Temps, but it's not. Octavia's a little stuffy and working for Greg, let's just say it's not the most interesting of jobs. It's all typing up 'the blue car came out of nowhere and hit me'." She sighed, loudly. "I just wanted a little bit of excitement."

OK. I didn't think I could provide that, no matter how much Amelia looked at me pleadingly with her pale blue eyes. "At least no one's thrown beer on you and called it a wet t-shirt contest."

"Well. No. But then, I don't work anywhere fun like this," Amelia grumbled, making it sound as though I'd deliberately kept such exciting pursuits and beer-dousing from her.

"It's, uh…well. It's an experience."

"So where's the normal bartender?" Amelia asked.

"It's his night off. That's part of the problem. We're short a waitress as Ginger's stuck behind the bar. I wasn't supposed to be working either, but I got called in." I waited for Amelia's response, but she'd lost interest in our staffing issues and moved on.

"Say, you got your prop for class yet?" I shook my head for no. Claudine had said that we were going to start working with props, and we'd all danced with the ones she had available, hats and feather boas and scarves, but we were supposed to come up with something ourselves, something that spoke about the character we were trying to create.

I was just hoping I wasn't going to have to dance with my apron and my tray simply because I never got to go anywhere other than work.

"I was thinking a fan, you know?" Amelia said. "I've got a really nice one at home…but I'll have to get my dad to send it up to me. We don't get along all _that_ well, and so…yeah. I don't know." I didn't have much to add on the subject of Amelia, her father or the fan that came between them because just then Ginger caught my eye. And then she started pointing vigorously at Eric's back as it just about disappeared through the door to the back of the bar.

OK. So I was on supposed to be on Eric-watch. Excellent. "I gotta go," I said to Amelia, as I hastily stood up.

"Already? But we just started talking."

"Yeah, but…you know. Like I said. Busy." I was walking away from the table as I said those last few words and I didn't glance back to see how hurt Amelia was probably looking. Instead I was focussed on Eric, and on getting to Eric before he went back to his office.

He'd been stopped from going through the door by a question from Danielle, and I was thankful for that, but, as I approached, she walked away and Eric again opened the door and was about to walk through when I reached out and grabbed his arm.

Probably not my best move. "Yes?" he said, as he stopped, looked at my hand on him, and then turned to look at me. I dropped my hand.

"Oh, um. Just…it's real busy here, and I think Ginger was wanting to get back out to the tables…"

"I need her behind the bar," Eric said, in a voice that suggested he didn't appreciate my interference.

"Yeah…see…um, maybe you could do that for a bit? Just while we're so flat-out?"

Eric frowned, and then looked over my head at the bar again. "I guess I could," he said slowly, as though he was hoping I might disagree with him and send him back to his office so he and his computer could continue the little tête-à-tête they'd been having earlier.

Well, I just simply wasn't going to do that. We needed Eric and he could darn well deal with it. "You know, you'll be OK. We don't often bite." Eric frowned at me, clearly thinking I was talking nonsense.

"The waitresses. We don't often bite. So I'm sure you'll be fine."

Eric looked at me and didn't seem to appreciate the joke because his face was still a little scowly. He was much nicer to look at when he was smiling. "And if Jane gets too near you, I'll just take her out with my tray."

"Well, if you promise to keep your teeth to yourself," Eric said, the scowl finally lifting somewhat.

"Oh. I solemnly and wholeheartedly do, Eric. I will stay well away from you on my side of the bar. Right out of biting distance." I smiled at Eric, but his gaze had gone somewhere else. I followed it and realised that somewhere along the line, while I'd been trying to console Eric that coming out to work with us wasn't such a great hardship, my hand had travelled back to his forearm where I was now administering the same kind of comforting rub you might give a child with a skinned knee, or a dog afraid of the veterinarian's.

At least, I hoped that's what I was doing. It was still a little embarrassing, though. I dropped my hand quickly, fixed Eric with my brightest smile and said "Thanks for helping out, Eric," before I turned on my heel and walked back to pick up my tray and my pad from where I'd left them when I'd gone to sit with Amelia.

I walked around my tables to see if anyone needed anything. Michele Schubert asked for the check. She was watching Jason sucking on Amy Burley's face. Yeah, that was a sight to behold. I wished they'd take it somewhere private.

Ginger came past me, looking much more comfortable now she had a tray in her hands and wasn't stuck behind the bar. "Thanks for sortin' that out for me, honey," she said.

"Oh, no problem," I said, to Ginger's retreating back. I hadn't really done anything other than just speak to Eric, after all. It probably didn't require too much in the way of special praise.

I went over to Jason next, to ask him, kind of pointedly, if he wanted the check. Amy looked up from sucking on his neck to giggle at me. Jason just shrugged, as best he could with Amy's arms wrapped around him. "Naw, Sook. We're just great here, ain't we Amy?" Amy giggled a little again. I gave up on them and headed back to a very fed-up looking Amelia.

"You know it really isn't any fun in here tonight," she said, and I shrugged apologetically. "But I'm glad to see that Pam was right about you and her friend."

"What?" I asked, a little confused and distracted by a customer who was trying to wave me over.

"You and that Eric guy. You seem to be getting on all right."

"Well, we're, uh…friends." I shrugged. It wasn't really a big deal, was it? I mean I worked with the man, after all.

Amelia gave me a sly look. "Uh-huh. And he's over there, behind the bar, checking you out because…?"

"Because I work for him and he thinks I should probably get back to it." I glanced over my shoulder and saw that Eric looked away to grab some beers for Danielle. I didn't think he'd really been paying that close attention to me.

"Fine. Off you go then," Amelia sighed. "I suppose I should go back home too. Spend a little time with Octavia." She didn't sound thrilled at the prospect.

"Well, she'd like that," I ventured.

Amelia didn't reply, but it was fairly clear on her face that she didn't think it was such a great idea at all.

I got through the rest of the night without any major mishap, despite the fact I was rushing from one table to another for most of that time. If Eric was checking up on me during that time, and I'm not sure that he was because I was simply too busy to look, then he wouldn't have had any complaints because I was doing my job and nothing more.

At the end of the night, when things quietened down, he gave up his position behind the bar and called Ginger back over. I expected he would disappear out to his office as fast as he could, but instead he came over to me.

"So, it wasn't so bad, was it?" I asked him. "No one got bitten, so that's a start."

"No," Eric agreed. "No one got bitten." He looked like he might say something else, but he didn't. He just headed on back to his office, and Dawn followed him not long afterwards.

The next day dawned, and it was full of surprises.

First up, I did some grocery shopping. Not that there was much surprising about that, it was one of those chores that simply had to be done, although I will admit that it was more pleasant now that I wasn't stuck with wondering if the total at the checkout was going to be more than I could afford.

And so I wandered at my leisure, knowing that I didn't have to be at work until later and…well, I wasn't looking forward to work. But I wasn't dreading it either.

And then I heard a voice calling out "Sookie! Sookie!" and I turned to see Arlene Fowler hot-footing it up the aisle towards me. Oh.

"Oh, my goodness Sookie! How are you?" Arlene grabbed me in an enthusiastic hug which nearly made me tip everything out of the little metal basket I was holding.

"I'm…good, Arlene. How're you? And the kids?"

"Oh, we're surviving Sookie!" Arlene said, with a little shrug. "I had to leave work early today, take Coby to his speech therapist appointment. Now we gotta get groceries, huh kids?" I noticed Coby and Lisa were dragging their heels down the aisle towards their mother, and I gave them a little wave. Lisa waved back, and Coby stared at me and then at his sister and then went back to looking at the computer game he was holding in his hands.

"So…you really doing all right, Sookie?" Arlene asked. "I heard you were working in some bar." She made my job sound like something it wasn't, so I replied with "Well, I do a bit of this and that, help out with the accounts and such-like."

Arlene nodded, but I realised I'd now made my job sound like something it wasn't. I didn't feel good about that. I wasn't ashamed of what I did.

Was I?

"And I waitress," I added, shrugging. "Mostly I waitress."

"Oh." Arlene didn't have much to say to that.

"So, how's work going?" I tried.

"Oh. Well. There's been a lot happening since you left. A lot!" Arlene emphasised those last two words and warmed to her subject. "Of course you heard about Alcide? And his dad?"

She looked at me expectantly, and I had to confess that I hadn't. "Oh, well. That was the first big news of course. It shouldn't have been a surprise, although I think old Mr Herveaux, he never realised it was coming. But he's out. Well, out of the day to day stuff now. Coby, hon, stay with Momma. So Alcide's got this big fancy new job, and boy, don't he think he's the rooster in the hen-house now. But she's the worst. Lisa, no, we ain't getting candy. Put that back where you got it from."

"Who?" I asked, having lost the thread of what Arlene was saying.

"What?" Arlene seemed similarly puzzled having, I guessed, moved on to candy in her mental processing. "Oh! Debbie, of course. You remember Debbie? Well, they're engaged now, and on account of the fact it's a family business and she's got the fancy-ass ring to say she's family, she's working there now. As Administration Manager."

"Oh." I tried to imagine what it would be like, having Debbie there, in the office, every day. I had to admit that it made working at the bar a lot more appealing.

"She drives Sam crazy," Arlene said, conspiratorially. "Although he don't say nothing, of course. That's not his style. Drives Jannalynn crazy too, nothing she does is good enough for Miss High and Mighty Debbie Pelt. Those two, sheesh!" Arlene rolled her eyes. "It's like bein' in between a pair of snarling wild animals when the fur starts flyin'. But they don't do it in front of Sam of course; it's just me that has to put up with them. And then Jannalynn licks her wounds and goes runnin' to Sam like he's gonna fix it all for her. Amount of time that girl spends in Sam's office, complaining about Debbie no doubt, she ain't got time to do any work. I tell you, Sookie, I'm runnin' the damn place single-handed!" Arlene finished up by throwing her hands in the air.

Well, that didn't sound like fun at all. "Say, they ever get that MasterPack thing sorted out?" I asked her, out of curiosity. I didn't like that I'd left the job half-done, no matter what I felt about Herveaux Fine Furnishing and all who worked there.

"What? Oh, no. I don't pay attention to any of that. That ain't my job." Maybe Arlene wasn't running quite as much as she thought. "Coby, hon, you let that lady pass by now, you hear? Sorry about that." Arlene grabbed Coby's arm and moved him out of the way of the woman who was trying to manoeuvre her shopping cart past our little group.

"Well, it was good to see you Arlene," I said.

"Yeah, and you too, Sookie. You take care now, you hear?" She fixed me with a big smile, and squeezed my arm slightly, before she turned to marshal Coby and Lisa along the aisle and away from me.

I tried to process everything that Arlene had told me and I just wasn't sure how I felt about it. Whatever emotions I felt, they sure weren't what I'd expected to feel.

I decided the middle of the Piggly Wiggly wasn't the place to try to find my emotional balance and I headed to the checkout.

When I got to work that evening, I was still a little unsettled from all that Arlene had told me. I mean, it wasn't like I'd been replaced by Debbie directly, and I guess if she was part of the family then it was only right they found her a job, but something about it all made me feel a little used, and a lot disappointed.

I just wasn't sure who I was disappointed in.

I busied myself with getting the bar ready to open and the mindless filling of salt shakers and ketchup bottles did wonders for keeping me from dwelling on my losses. I was so well occupied I didn't even notice Long Shadow until he was standing right next to me.

"I went to Hooligan's last night," he announced, after a few seconds of standing there watching me work.

"Uh-huh." I was a little wary of where this might go.

"You weren't there."

"Well, no. I was here. Working." I held up a ketchup bottle as though it proved something.

Long Shadow frowned at me. "You weren't supposed to be working."

"Eric asked me to." I made a neat arrangement of the bottles I'd filled, ready to move them onto the tables on my section.

"Yeah. Guess he would do that. Never mind though. That Angelique, she sure special, even though she don't take much off. You know her?"

"From Hooligan's?"

"Yeah. Course. You know her?"

"I don't know anyone from there." I wasn't sure where Long Shadow had got the crazy idea I was a stripper or…whatever, from. He sure did seem mighty persistent about the whole thing.

Long Shadow eyed me sceptically. "You know her," he said, and then he started to turn away and walk off to the bar, but Lafayette chose that moment to approach us. "Tonight's special is chicken fried steak, mashed potatoes and beans," he announced. "And it's a mighty fine offering, if I do say so myself. Which I do." Lafayette stuck out his chin like he was daring us to contradict him.

"You sure like blowing your own horn," Long Shadow said, looking Lafayette up and down coolly.

"And I sure as hell ain't blowin' yours." Long Shadow shrugged and refused to rise to Lafayette's challenge, so he carried on. "But anyways, thought you'd want to know."

"Food ain't my concern," Long Shadow said, almost pushing past Lafayette. Lafayette held up his hand to stop him though.

"No, but customers is. You supposed to keep them happy and if they ask you what the special is, you can tell them now, can't you? Stop you hollering at the waitresses to come and tell you, don't it, if you gets it from the horse's mouth?"

Long Shadow didn't say anything to that, he just walked off. "That man is an ass," Lafayette said emphatically, but he didn't wait around for me to reply to that, he headed back to the kitchen.

We had been getting more customers in for dinner, rather than just for drinks, since we'd started offering up the special of the day. That I was thankful for, as I didn't want to face becoming part of any more impromptu wet t-shirt contests. But even with the extra customers, it was mighty quiet in here on a Monday night.

Long Shadow was looking bored, and I didn't fancy him trying to strike up another conversation with me about that Angelique person. It just made me uncomfortable to know all about some stripper he thought he was going to…well. I couldn't quite picture Long Shadow romancing anyone. It was all a little odd, to say the least.

So I thought I might head back to Eric's office and see if he needed anything done. Maybe I could pick up where I'd left off checking off the invoices the previous night. Or anything really. I just needed something that was going to stop me going and over and over and over the things that might have been different if Debbie Pelt hadn't poked her nose in where it wasn't wanted.

I let Ginger know where I was headed, and then pushed through the door to the back of the bar, ignoring Long Shadow saying "He calling you in without words now, Sookie?"

I realised that I probably agreed with Lafayette's assessment of him.

In the hallway I found Pam walking towards me. "You heading out to help Eric?" she asked.

"Well. I was going to see if he needed anything."

Pam cocked her head to one side and regarded me. She still looked strained and the dark circles under her eyes were, I thought, getting bigger. "He gets a pretty good deal out of you, doesn't he?"

"Who? Eric? I guess." I did know that while I was in Eric's office he was not only getting a bookkeeper on a waitresses' salary, but I was also missing out on tips I might have made. But I liked to think I was looking at the bigger picture, and this was an investment in my future, a chance to keep up the skills I'd learned working at Herveaux Fine Furnishings.

Plus, I liked being helpful. That wasn't a crime, was it?

But Pam just shrugged and said "He needs all the help he can get. I'm not sure…" and then she trailed off. "Well, anyway. He has you, and that's good!" She clapped me on the arm, her voice too bright and her manner too hearty.

"I can be real helpful, Pam. I mean…you just let me know if you need any help, you hear?"

"Oh, no. I'm fine," Pam said, dismissively, waving me away with her hand. "Unless you know how to get nail polish out of my linen blazer."

"Uh. No. Sorry. That is outside my area of expertise."

"Well. You go back to helping Eric then." She gave me one final smile, and then she pushed past me to go to the bar. I wondered if she was going to sit and listen to Long Shadow wax lyrical about a stripper.

I knocked on Eric's office door. "Yes," he said, from inside, and I opened it. "Hey, I was just wondering if you wanted me to carry on with the stuff I was doing…?"

Eric slowly raised his head from the computer monitor. "Oh. Last night? I suppose so." Eric didn't seem particularly thrilled with me, or my presence.

"Or I could go?"

"Is it busy?" Eric asked.

"Not really. Few diners, but mostly just people having a beer before they go home by the looks."

Eric sighed heavily and sat back in his chair, running his hands through his hair. "I just can't make it work," he said, kind of cryptically.

"Make what work?"

"This. These." He gestured at the monitor and I walked around to stand beside him and look at what he was doing.

"It's…what's that?" I said. There was a whole bunch of coloured rectangles on the screen, in a descending pattern, almost as though they were a staircase. It was kind of pretty.

"It's a waterfall graph, representing the possible cuts to expenses I could make," Eric said wearily. "See? That first bar is what we're spending now, then all those bars are the cuts I could make, which would leave us with less expenses; the smaller bar at the end."

"Oh." I looked at the labels on the rectangles. I felt a little lurch in my stomach when I saw one of them had Staff Salaries written across it.

I knew that I had felt it should be last in, first out when I'd lost my old job, but now I wasn't so sure.

"But if I could figure out how to get the takings up," Eric mused. Mostly to himself, I thought. He seemed to have forgotten I was standing there. He clicked something on the screen and it changed to a graph with a bar that went up and down a lot. "There's just no…consistency," he said.

"I guess no one's got a reason to come that often," I said. "But have you thought about a TV?"

Eric turned to look at me. "A TV?"

"Yeah. In the bar. For sports and stuff. Jason's always saying that he's got nothing to look at while he's waitin' for me to bring him his beer, and I guess that means that Amy Burley's cleavage don't really count. Maybe that would get rid of some of those big dips." I leaned forward to point at the graph on the screen and, in doing so, put one hand on Eric's shoulder to steady myself.

I waited for Eric to respond, but he didn't. He just kept looking at me, and all of a sudden something in the air in that little office changed. I was acutely aware just how close I was standing to Eric and that I could feel the heat of his skin through his shirt fabric. I moved my hand and straightened up, but it was too late. Eric smelled good, I realised. I inhaled and felt the warmth all the way down into my abdomen.

At this distance, I could closely examine every detail that made up the whole of Eric Northman. I could see how his hair was getting a little long behind his ears; I could almost count every eyelash and every dark blond bristle on his face. I wanted to reach out and run my hand down his cheek, maybe touch his mouth, and I…

I stopped myself before this went any further and I regretted it. Eric was good-looking. I knew that. I didn't have to be swayed by it, though. I was not a slave to my hormones.

Eric looked at me curiously, almost as though he was wary of what I might do. I couldn't blame him.

"Maybe I'll just go back and see if Ginger needs any help," I said, and then I high-tailed it out of there without looking back.

I pushed through the door to the bar and took a deep breath. That was really stupid on my part. Really stupid. I just…

I didn't even finish my thought. I was looking at my section and at the customers who'd arrived while I'd been out back. Jannalynn Hopper was sitting there, bold as brass, with Sam Merlotte.

They were holding hands across the table.

It was clearly a day for me to feel unbalanced. Every way I turned the world seemed out of sorts. I'd had Arlene's news about Debbie, Long Shadow thought I was a closet stripper, Pam was hiding something, and I'd nearly jumped Eric in his office. Just when I'd thought I was getting my life under control something changed and I felt like I was standing at the top of a slippery slope.

But I forced myself to go and pick up my tray and my pad and pen, and then walk over to Sam and Jannalynn. "Well, hey there, you two!" I said, brightly, and like I'd just got back to my desk after lunch. "Long time, no see."

Sam's head whipped around to face me. "Oh. Sookie?"

"The one and only. And what can I get for you two tonight?" I smiled the biggest and brightest smile I could manage under the circumstances. Jannalynn was smiling too, but hers was considerably slyer, like she'd been caught out doing something she wanted to be caught out doing.

"Oh, well, I think we'll just have a drink…" Sam started to say, but Jannalynn interrupted. "What you got to eat here?" she asked, slowly, like I might have trouble with her meaning.

"Well, here's a menu," I handed it over. "And the special of the day is chicken fried steak, with green beans and mashed potatoes. I hear it's real good."

"I'll have that then," Jannalynn said. "Sam, sweetie?" I wasn't sure if I imagined it, but I'm almost sure Sam flinched a little at that.

"I'll have a burger," he said, sounding a little disgruntled. "And a beer."

"Two beers." Jannalynn held up two fingers so I could count them. That was nice and helpful of her.

I placed their orders and then tried to put them out of my mind. I mean, it wasn't my business what they were doing, was it? Especially now that I wasn't even their co-worker. No, I was just a bystander to…whatever this was.

Neither of them were married. They were single and this was a free country. No crime was being committed.

But it sure did leave a bitter taste in my mouth all the same.

I did my best to avoid their table, but Jannalynn wasn't buying that. No, she came up with every excuse she could to call me over. She needed napkins, she needed more ketchup, she wondered if there was a salt shaker that wasn't clogged up, she wanted iced water, and she wanted to know if it was real butter in the mashed potatoes.

"That one is more trouble than she's worth," Lafayette commented, when I relayed the butter question.

"Yep. But I just gotta deal with it."

"Well, Lord knows. We only get what we can bear. But I tell you, Sookie, if it was me out there, I'd be telling her skinny ass to eat a damn stick of butter and get out of my hair."

"Yeah. Thanks, Lafayette."

When I got back to the table to tell Jannalynn the news about the mashed potatoes, she wasn't there. It was just Sam. "Ladies room," he said, by way of explanation.

"Oh. Well, tell Jannalynn yes it's real butter. Lafayette says otherwise it just wouldn't taste right."

"OK," Sam said, slowly. And then he looked me right in the eyes. "You doing OK, Sookie?"

This was worse than Bill coming in and acting like my life was over because I carried a tray. This was the person I'd counted on, looked up to, the one I'd thought was on my side and wanted me to do well. He picked a funny time to suddenly worry about my well-being.

"I'm great, Sam," I said, and I took a step away, but he grabbed my arm. "It's not...well. It's not what it looks like, and I know that's a cliché, but it's the truth. She just needed a friend." His eyes were pleading with me, hoping I'd believe him.

I didn't believe him.

"It's really none of my business, Sam." I thought he might let go of my arm, but he didn't.

"Sookie. Please. You know I didn't have a choice, this wasn't my call to make, and what…happened. It didn't have anything to do with Jannalynn. This isn't anything serious. I wouldn't…it wouldn't be right, for me to do that. Not with her."

And then I saw it. That little, tiny flash of shame that flickered across Sam's face when he mentioned Jannalynn. He was ashamed of what he was doing, of Jannalynn herself, and he wanted me to tell him that it was OK, that I knew he was a good person and none of this really mattered.

I almost felt sorry for Jannalynn.

"Sam. I gotta get back to work. I can't afford to lose another job." I twisted my arm free and walked off. "You got another admirer, Sookie?" Long Shadow asked me, as I walked past the bar.

"That's one more than you have," Pam commented, dryly, taking a sip of her drink.

"I don't need any admirers. I just need a break." I walked out the door to the back of the bar. Somewhere in there I'd developed the desire to just see Eric. I didn't know why, and I was past caring. Maybe I just needed a friend. Maybe his cologne just really was that pleasant.

Maybe I was willing to be reckless and stupid because not being those things didn't seem to be winning me many points in this life.

But I heard voices coming from Eric's office, and one of them was Dawn's. I stopped dead in my tracks.

"I don't understand," Dawn said. "You don't have to understand anything," Eric replied. "It's my decision. This arrangement isn't working and I'm ending it. Now. Today. Your extra services are no longer required."

"It's because of Sookie, ain't it? That's why you don't need me."

"Sookie isn't your concern. Please go back to your normal duties."

"But…" Dawn protested.

"Now." Eric sounded very much like he didn't want to argue the point any longer. I heard Dawn start towards the door of the office and I scuttled into the storeroom quickly, pretending to go to my locker. Dawn rushed past me, into the employee bathroom, a sob escaping as she did so.

I contemplated following her, and trying to offer some words of comfort, but I figured she'd be on the outs with me if she blamed me for the end of her relationship with Eric.

And, to be honest, I didn't want to hear how he'd done her wrong. I could tell. And between Eric and Sam, I was over men right at that point.

I went back to work, and avoided Sam and Jannalynn until they called for their check. I presented it to Sam and noticed that Jannalynn didn't exactly offer to pay any towards it. She left with a wave over her shoulder from the hand that she hadn't wrapped around Sam's waist and he left me with a generous tip and a pain in my chest.

I kept on working for the rest of the night, although it wasn't a long one. Mondays we closed early, and I was grateful for that. Just as I was walking out to the car though, Pam stopped me in the corridor.

"Sookie. I just wanted to say goodbye."

"Oh. Right. See you tomorrow!"

Pam shook her head. "No. I mean, I'm going away. For a little while. There are some…things I need to take care off." She didn't sound that thrilled with the prospect.

"In New York?"

"Yes."

"Pam, I don't want to pry, but…is everything OK? Is there anything I can do? I just…I'm worried about you. And I'd like to help."

"Oh, Sookie. I wish you could. But this is my burden, and I'll bear it. No, I'll be fine. And I'll be back soon. So in the meantime, what you can do is look after Eric."

Oh. "I don't think he really needs looking after, Pam. I mean, you aren't going to his place and changing his litter tray every day, are you?"

Pam chuckled at that. "No. I'm not. I think you know what I mean though. And you just…I think it's working out."

"Pam. Cards on the table, OK? Are you trying to set me up with Eric?" I was tired of beating around the bush with her. I wanted to know if that was the whole reason for this. Was I just Dawn's replacement in the merry-go-round of waitresses who fell into Eric's bed?

"Would it be so bad if I was?" she asked me.

I thought about it. All I knew right at that moment was that I didn't want to be like Dawn, dismissed as though I was nothing. And I really didn't ever want someone to look ashamed when he spoke about me, like Sam had talking about Jannalynn. I wasn't anyone's dirty little secret.

"Pam. It just wouldn't be right. I can't date my boss. Plain and simple. It's never gonna happen."

"Well, that's a shame," Pam said, with a rueful smile. "I think you would have been suited."

I shrugged. I couldn't change it. It was what it was. "Bye, Pam. Have a safe trip." I gave her a hug, and she kissed my cheek, and walked off. And that was when I heard the sound of Eric's office door shutting and his heavy footsteps on the other side of it.

I stood rooted to the spot, unsure of what to do. I'd had an emotionally draining day and I'd ended up learning all kinds of things about the people at my old place of employment. Some of them had made me feel battered and bruised, and some of them I just plain didn't want to know. I had a hard enough time trying to sort out my own head, I had no idea how I'd deal with someone else being in a mood. Or not, as the case may be.

I thought about for a few seconds more. And then I gave up, and went out to my car to drive home. I'd worry about it all tomorrow.

**Thanks for reading!**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N Back again (finally!) Once more I'd like to thank everyone for the lovely, positive response to this story. I'm glad everyone is enjoying it.**

**Disclaimer: Not mine.**

The next day I felt no small amount of trepidation while I was driving to work. Which was silly, and I told myself that, over and over, but I still had trouble getting all the butterflies in my stomach to sit down and take a lunchbreak.

After all, I had no way of knowing if Eric had even heard what I'd said to Pam. And if he had…which he probably hadn't…then chances were that he had no intention of ever dating me, and he thought I was slightly delusional and probably wouldn't want to be alone with me again. And, if all he'd been looking for was a replacement for Dawn's…well, I guess you could say services…then I was probably better off out of the office and back out in the bar where there were lots of potential witnesses.

So all in all, I didn't think I should be beating myself up about what had happened. But I just couldn't shake the niggling feeling that if Eric and I were friends, real friends, then it might have been better if he'd heard it directly from me and not just as a comment I made to Pam when I was put on the spot.

I sighed as I reached over to turn the car radio up, in the hope that the song playing would drown out some of my thoughts. There wasn't anything I could do about it now. I'd just have to turn up and see how it all played out.

At first, it was a lot easier than I expected, as Eric was nowhere to be seen. Of course, neither was Pam, and that made me a little sad. I missed her hanging around more than I thought I would.

"You look a little down, hon," Ginger commented, as we were doing our prep work together.

"Oh, I'm OK. Just wondering when Pam'll be back."

"Place ain't the same without her," Ginger agreed.

"I'm not missing her," Long Shadow added.

"That's 'cos she don't let you skimp when you're making the cocktails. Sometimes them folks wants a little bourbon in their bourbon and Cokes. That's all I'm sayin'." Lafayette had appeared next to the bar, much to Long Shadow's annoyance. He glared at Lafayette, not at all impressed with having his bar-tending skills dismissed so thoroughly.

"What's the special for tonight?" I asked Lafayette, while Long Shadow made a great show of wiping some glasses dry.

"Burgers."

"How is that special?" Long Shadow grumbled. "We always do burgers."

"But these are Burgers Lafayette, and we ain't had them before." Lafayette gave us all an enigmatic smile and drifted off. Long Shadow stared at his back. "Well if that isn't the most conceited thing, I don't know what is."

Ginger shrugged. "You could make a Long Shadow drink," she suggested.

"I don't need to name things after myself. " Long Shadow sure did sound disgruntled. Ginger didn't seem bothered by that, though, and she carried on. "I guess Eric don't need to either," she said, loading some salt shakers onto a tray.

Long Shadow frowned at Ginger. "That's different."

"Why? I don't care, and I guess most people don't either. Bar's a bar whatever it's called. "

Long Shadow gave Ginger a long hard look. "Really? Being reminded of Victor is so fucking great?"

Ginger shrugged. "Yeah, but he's long gone now. Things are different."

"Not so much," Long Shadow replied. "You think this guy gonna stick around all that much longer?" He adopted a nonchalant air, and watched Ginger as she halted almost mid-step, gauging her reaction. "His ladyfriend left already. He'll be gone next. Same as Victor."

"Oh no, Eric ain't nothin' like Victor," Ginger said, emphatically. "And it ain't like that between Pam and him. I don't think she likes men."

"They all like men. Rich men, anyways. Men that can give 'em somethin'. You wait, he'll sell up and go and join her back wherever the hell they came from soon enough." Long Shadow watched Ginger carefully, and my eyes flicked between the two of them. "You better think about who's going to take care of you when that happens," he said to her. And then he looked at me. "Both of you girls better. And I'll tell you something, it ain't gonna be that clown in the kitchen thinks he's startin' the next fuckin' McDonalds."

Long Shadow tried to give me a pointed look, but I refused to meet it. Instead I watched Ginger. She didn't reply, she just marched off tray in hand, head high, but shoulders slightly slumped. I followed her carrying my own tray.

Ginger reached the first table in her section and set down the salt and pepper shakers. "You know, hon," she said to me, without looking away from the table. "It ain't gonna happen. We're gonna be all right, and they ain't gonna close this place again. They just ain't." On that emphatic note, she turned to me with a nod and a big smile and I could see that what she was saying was as much for her own benefit as mine. She seemed a little more confident now, and I admired her for being able to console herself so thoroughly.

I wished I could do the same. Instead I just pictured that little rectangle on Eric's computer that said Staff Salaries and I felt the butterflies in my stomach change into something big and heavy and dragging.

I'd been let go by someone I considered a friend before. I had no reason to think it wouldn't happen again. I wished I had Ginger's faith that we'd be OK and Eric wouldn't let us down. But I didn't. And that made me a little sad.

I had to be thankful for some things though, and one of them was that it was Dawn's night off. I hadn't seen much of her the previous night since I'd overheard her conversation with Eric and seen her disappear into the bathroom, and I was glad to have the breathing space before I faced her again. Had I been anyone else, I could have offered a sympathetic ear and a few words about how she was better off without him, but knowing that Dawn blamed me for usurping her position made things a little trickier. I did not think she'd be all that impressed by my tough dating in the workplace policy.

Not that anyone had asked me to date them. But it didn't hurt to be prepared. It was like the accounting principles I'd learnt from Sam, about separation of duties and all of that, it was better to think of what could go wrong and try to stop it getting to that stage, rather than walk into it blindly.

So I was glad I had my policy in place. In case.

At about eight-thirty Ginger came over to me. "Hey, can you pop out back and see Eric? I was just out there and he was askin' for you."

"Oh. OK." I took a deep breath, and walked through the door to the back of the bar. "Not coming to see me then?" Long Shadow asked as I passed him, but I ignored him.

I marched right up to the door to Eric's office, hesitated and considered knocking, but then pushed my way right on in.

"You're here," Eric said, looking up at me. "Look at this." He pointed to his computer screen and I walked around to his side of the desk and stared at the monitor. What was on there seemed to be a bunch of jumbled numbers and letters, some of them out of alignment and almost unreadable.

I looked at Eric hoping for a clue as to what I was looking at. Was this another kind of graph?

"Well?" he asked. "What do we do for this?"

By we, I was pretty sure, he meant me. And I had no idea.

"I don't know. I don't think that's something that's supposed to happen."

"Well, no shit," Eric said, sounding like he was just barely holding back a snarl. It was obvious I was about to be on the receiving end of the same kind of treatment Eric had been handing out to Duff when I'd found them out back. I realised I was going to have to put the leash back on Eric.

"If you're going to be rude, I could just leave." I waited for Eric's response to that, unsure whether I'd made things better or worse.

He looked at me, and my first instinct was that I'd made it worse and I was about to get the full force of Eric's ire, but seemed to re-think that. It was almost like he shook himself and remembered who he was talking to. "I just need to get it working again."

"Well, I don't think you and I standing around looking at it is going to achieve that, Eric. I think we'll need to get help."

"From where?" The snarl was back.

"Luckily, I know someone who could probably do it, and, even more luckily for you, I'll call him and see if he's available."

"Who?"

"My, uh…neighbour. Bill Compton. Really, I think this is his area of expertise."

Eric narrowed his eyes at me. "Is this Bill the one you stopped dating so now his sister won't represent you?"

"Um. Cousin. She's a cousin. But yes, it's the same Bill." I had no idea that Eric had been paying that much attention to what I said to him. After all, every time I said I was going to call Marvin to come and get his mother he still looked like I might as well have been talking about characters on a TV show he didn't watch. And yet that one remark about Portia and Bill had stuck in his brain somewhere.

Eric was certainly mystifying. I wished Pam was here and I could try asking her a few questions about him. Not that she'd probably be all that forthcoming, but you never knew. Instead I guessed I'd just have to figure him out on my own.

I wasn't sure I had the energy for that.

"And he would help me?"

"Honestly Eric, it'd be me he'd be doing the favour for." As soon as I said that I started to get a little worried about how much of a favour this might be and how I might be beholden to Bill for a very long time.

Eric frowned at that, like he couldn't fathom why Bill might be interested in helping me out. "You don't…see, him anymore?" he asked me.

I opened my mouth and was about to say that of course I did, when I caught on to what Eric meant. Oh.

"It's not like that, Eric. I don't have that kind of a relationship with Bill. We're…friendly. Friends, even."

"Like us?"

"Kind of." I didn't know if it was the same thing at all. Bill could be a huge pain in the ass, but he was kind of predictable and it was comfortable spending time with him because I knew where I stood. Eric was equal parts terrifying and exciting and I was starting to think that maybe I liked that, which was even more surprising.

"OK. So I'll call Bill?" Eric just nodded at the phone on his desk and moved his chair back slightly. Oh, so I was making this call in here, in front of him. Excellent.

Bill answered after the fifth ring. I was starting to think he might have gone out for the evening, but I guess he was just a little slow to get to the phone. Or engaged in more home-bound pursuits.

Lord, I hoped I wasn't interrupting anything with Selah.

"Oh, hey Bill," I said. "How are you doing tonight?"

"Oh, very well Sookie. And yourself?

"I'm mighty fine too, Bill. Say, I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"

"Not at all. I always have time for you, Sookie." Bill's voice sounded cool and calm and whatever might have delayed him from answering my call certainly hadn't ruffled his feathers. I remembered how nice it was to be with someone who didn't get agitated very easily as, out of the corner of my eye, I could see Eric getting slightly bothered by the amount of small talk I was making. He was drumming his fingers on the desk and fiddling with the computer mouse while still managing to give me very pointed looks.

"Great. That's great, Bill. So, uh, we were hoping to use your services. Um, to take a look at a broken computer. Here. At my work." This was really awkward with an audience, with Eric as the audience. I felt like every word I uttered was being scrutinised for some kind of double meaning because Eric knew that I used to date Bill. It was silly really. More than silly. Why would Eric care about Bill?

"Oh," Bill said. "Well, I don't have anything on tomorrow. What time will someone be there?"

"Well, tomorrow would be great Bill…" I glanced at Eric who was giving me a very clear 'tomorrow will not be great' look. "…but we were kind of hoping you might come out tonight, if you were able. It's somewhat of an emergency." At least I hoped it was, and it wasn't just that Eric was worried about losing a high score or some saved links.

"Well…" Bill seemed to be considering it.

"_Very_ grateful," I emphasised, and Eric raised his eyebrows. "Um, that is. My boss and I would be. You know, Eric, who, um…I work for…"

"No. I don't know him." Bill sounded a little grumpy now. Terrific.

"Well, I'm sure he will be grateful and more than happy to pay extra for the prompt out-of-hours service." I didn't bother looking at Eric to see his reaction to that one. Some things he was just going to have to live with.

"Well, Sookie. I guess if it really is an emergency…"

"Oh, it definitely is. I mean, Eric can't hardly get any work done without his computer." I realised I was laying it on a little thick, and I stopped it, lest I regret playing the damsel in distress card when my white knight actually showed up and thought he was going to take me away from all of this. I didn't need Bill getting the wrong idea about why I was calling him. "I mean, if you want to talk to Eric, I'm sure he can explain more about what the problem is…"

"OK. Yes, that would be helpful, Sookie." Feeling slightly side-lined, I passed the phone to Eric who immediately, and without any attempt to introduce himself, launched into a long description of everything he'd already tried. "So I don't need to restart anything, I need you to come and fix it." I wondered how Bill felt about being Eric's new employee.

Eric replaced the phone, without saying goodbye, and looked at me. He frowned. "So…he'll be able to fix it?"

"Guess so." I wasn't sure how I felt about being Bill's referee. I'd never had much reason to call on his services, after all. Not in this way.

"And…" Eric looked thoughtful, like he was trying to find the right words for what he wanted to say. "Is he going to be an asshole?"

"What? No. No, I mean…just because we broke up, I mean…anyway. You don't have to date Bill, Eric. You just have to let him fix the computer and then pay him his money."

I'm not sure that answer really satisfied Eric, but he didn't press me any further, instead he turned away from me and pulled out a stack of papers. I took that as my cue to leave. "I'll just go and see how Ginger's getting on," I said, and I stood up to leave.

"Sookie?" Eric called, and I stopped with one hand on the door. I wondered if this was going to be another question about Bill's expertise, or something else. I had the awful sinking feeling that this might be something else.

"Yes, Eric?"

"Do you really think the bar needs a TV?"

"Oh." It was something else, but nothing that had warranted my dread of just a moment earlier. I felt a little silly, even though I was the only person party to my inner turmoil. I really needed to stop dwelling on what might happen. "Um…I think so."

Eric nodded and didn't comment further, and I left his office.

Back in the bar I did the rounds of my tables and checked on who needed what. A group of men from the Norcross plant ordered another round of beer, so I took their order to the bar. "And how is the big boss-man tonight, Sookie?" Long Shadow asked.

"Pondering TVs," I said, as I slid over the slip of paper with the order written on it. I turned to Jane Bodehouse, who was sitting on a bar-stool being mostly ignored by Long Shadow. "And what do you think, Jane? You think a TV in here is a good idea?"

Jane turned to me and blinked a few times. "Oh. Sookie."

"That's right!" I said, maybe a little too brightly and with the air of someone congratulating a child who'd recited the alphabet all the way through for the first time.

"I don't know," she said, slowly. "I mean, I like _Jeopardy!_"

"Oh, me too," I agreed.

"So maybe we could watch that?" Jane asked, and I nodded enthusiastically. Long Shadow lined up the beers on the bar and I started loading them onto my tray. "Although it's better when I have someone to talk to. Where's that other lady? That friend of yours?"

"Pam? Oh, she had to go back to New York for a while." I steadied the tray and was about to walk off when Jane spoke again.

"That's a shame. She's such a nice lady. And I always say us widows got to stick together."

I stopped and looked back at Jane. She sipped her drink and looked unconcerned, and Long Shadow had moved further back to shift some glasses around and now had his back to both of us. That couldn't have been right, could it? Jane must be confused.

"You OK there, Tara?" she asked, when she saw me looking at her.

"Uh. Yeah. Just…great."

"OK, well you better get those men their beer. They look thirsty."

"Yeah, I guess." I turned back around again.

"You're a good girl, Sookie. You always look after everyone real nice."

"Thanks, Jane."

I delivered the beer and pondered Jane's statement. Just how confused was she? Pam would have mentioned something like that, wouldn't she? Maybe she wouldn't. After all, she hadn't told me a lot about her life before she came here.

I realised it was something I was never going to solve without some input from Pam herself and I gave up and went back to waitressing. Somehow that was a nice little break.

And then Bill walked into the bar, carrying a laptop bag and managing to look both hurried and unruffled all at once. "Sookie," he said, when he walked over to me. He looked so serious I almost expected him to follow it up with "Show me where the patient is." I stifled a giggle and Bill looked at me curiously.

"Hi Bill. Thanks for coming. Let's go back into Eric's office. Follow me." I waved over at Ginger and pointed to the door to the back, and she nodded in reply, and then I led Bill out of the main area and into the corridor, where we met Eric who was just coming out of the store room.

"Oh, hey Eric. Bill's here." I turned and did my best impression of a game-show hostess by pointing with both hands in Bill's direction, palms facing upwards. Maybe Ginger hadn't been completely wrong about that spokesmodel thing.

Eric ignored me and stepped forward. "Eric Northman," he said, extending his hand to Bill.

"Bill Compton." They shook hands. I was tempted to add "Bill enjoys long hours on-line and period wallpapers, and Eric is fond of scaring delivery drivers and behaving inappropriately with his staff", but I decided against it. This didn't seem to be that kind of encounter.

Eric turned and walked through the door of his office, leaving Bill and I to follow him. As the door just about swung shut, Bill reached past me to grab it. "After you, Miss Stackhouse," he murmured.

"Why thank you, Mr Compton. You are too kind," I replied, marvelling at how quickly we fell back into the old patterns when we were together. It always felt easy being around Bill at times like this. That is until I looked over and saw Eric watching us like we were a couple of pelicans performing a mating dance.

If Bill saw it too, he ignored it, instead moving around so he was behind the desk and could get a better view of the computer screen. I stayed where I was, unsure if I should leave them to it, or stay.

Eric answered my question. "Sookie, you should stay. After all, you know the accounting software." I didn't know much about computers, but I suspected from the look of the gobbledegook on Eric's computer screen, that it might be a long time before we saw that software working again. But I did as I was asked and stayed put.

"Here, then," Bill said, as he stopped unpacking things from his laptop bag and looked at me standing awkwardly between the door and the desk. He pulled out a chair, managing to make a considerable show of doing so. It was Eric's chair. "Let me get you a seat, sweetheart."

"Thanks, Bill," I said, none too enthusiastically as I sat down under Eric's watchful stare. He didn't look annoyed, well, maybe not annoyed at me. I hoped. Mostly he just seemed curious.

"Sookie's very, uh…useful. Around the office," Eric said, as Bill started poking the keyboard of the computer.

"That's nice," Bill said, without glancing at Eric or me. His tone was dismissive and it made me a little annoyed. I was half-tempted to stick my tongue out at him, but it seemed a tiny bit juvenile.

"I couldn't do without her," Eric continued. I looked at him and he was watching Bill carefully. If I wasn't mistaken, he was trying to get Bill to react.

Well that could take all night and be very, very boring for those of us who were mere spectators.

As predicted, Bill didn't react, well probably not in the way that Eric had expected. He just ducked down under the desk to poke around with the wires and things that were under there.

"I'd be very lonely in the office, without Sookie," Eric added, even though he was mostly just talking to Bill's bent-over back. I was more than little annoyed at how Eric made my time in here sound. After all, I wasn't like Dawn, and I wasn't in here doing…stuff I shouldn't be, with Eric. I fought back the urge to go and kick him in the shins and tell him to hush up.

Yep, it was definitely like being back in third grade again. I wondered which one of them would be the first to yank on my ponytail and run off laughing.

"I'm glad Sookie has an employer who is so generous with his time," Bill said, smoothly, as he emerged from under the desk and brushed down his pants.

"And I'm glad Sookie is so generous with hers," Eric retorted. Since when had the word generous sounded quite so dirty?

I decided to put a stop to this before my reputation ended up in tatters. "Say, what's your prognosis, Bill?"

"Well, I'll need to try to restore the data first. When did you last perform a back-up?"

"Um…I think…maybe a couple of weeks ago?" Eric frowned and Bill pressed his lips together and looked exasperated.

"And I suppose you haven't made any changes to any of your data since then?"

"Of course I have," Eric said.

"Well, then. You need to back-up your data. Regularly. Your business records are important and you shouldn't assume that data won't be lost if something affects your computing capability." Bill sighed and pulled a chair over before sitting down and opening up his own laptop. Eric and I caught each other's eyes. He was sporting an expression that suggested he knew he was being lectured and he wasn't contrite at all, like the bad boy who gets called to the front of the class and makes faces behind the teacher's back. I had to choke back the urge to giggle, just a little bit.

"I'll have to try to see what I can restore from the hard-drive," Bill said, not looking at Eric, who was now watching him cautiously as he connected his laptop to Eric's computer.

"Is that a good idea?" Eric asked.

"Yes."

"But if that computer is broken…won't yours be affected?"

Bill turned to look at Eric. "I have back-ups," he said, and then he went back to what he was doing.

Eric didn't look like he was about to laugh at Bill anymore, Eric looked a little mad, standing there with his arms folded, glaring at Bill. I decided to try another tack in breaking the tension in the room. "You been to see any good movies recently, Bill?" Bill liked movies and when we'd been dating, I'd liked seeing them with him and, even more than the movies themselves, I'd liked the part where we'd discuss what we'd seen afterwards. Sure, Bill never really agreed with much that I said, but that was OK. I'd still liked our little discussions.

Of course I didn't see so many movies these days, working nights didn't help. And I'd miss having someone to talk about them with afterwards, anyway.

"Oh, well. I saw that _Life of Pi_," Bill said.

"Was it good? I'd kind of like to see that."

"You would?" Bill asked me, sounding genuinely surprised. Eric had given up on our conversation and he was now rummaging around in his filing cabinet. Kind of noisily I noticed.

"Yeah. I think it looks real interesting. And I'd like to be that close to a tiger."

Bill's eyebrows drew together. "It's not a real tiger. It's a metaphor."

"And it would eat you, metaphor or not," Eric added. OK, so he was listening then.

"I don't know. Maybe it could be a magic tiger or something? One that doesn't eat people?"

"I think by definition that wouldn't be a tiger," Bill said.

"Not even a metaphorical one," Eric added, pulling a large binder out of the filing cabinet and dropping it onto the desk, right next to Bill's arm. I felt a sense of foreboding as I could tell what was coming, I was going to be stuck in here with both Bill and Eric while re-sorting those invoices, or some other kind of busy-work that Eric would concoct just to keep me here.

I did not like that idea at all.

"You know, as interesting as this is, I better get back out to the bar. Ginger'll be rushed off her feet without me." I stood up and walked around the desk.

"Actually, this will take a while," Bill said, nodding at the laptop. "I might join you, grab a drink." He stood up as well.

"I guess you can have it on the house," Eric said, grudgingly, while peering at Bill's laptop to see what was happening.

"Just leave that running," Bill instructed, and then he opened the office door for me to walk through.

"Thanks, Bill." I didn't look back to see if Eric was watching us this time. Instead I marched straight through to the bar, with Bill holding that door open for me as well, and, when we got there, I led Bill over to a stool next to Jane. "If you have a seat, Long Shadow will get you want you want."

"I'll take a…?" Bill looked to me for suggestions.

"Coke?"

"Coke, then," he finished.

"It's on the house," I said to Long Shadow, who'd come over to take Bill's order.

"You getting family discount now, Sookie?" he asked.

"Oh, I'm Sookie's friend," Bill informed him.

"I bet you are." Long Shadow walked away to get Bill his drink.

"That you, Jason?" Jane said, as she squinted at Bill.

"No, it's Bill Compton, Mrs Bodehouse."

Jane nodded. "Tha's right. Jesse's nephew, ain't you?"

Bill nodded, and took the drink Long Shadow grudgingly passed across the bar to him. "You know, I remember the time your Uncle Jesse had a party, and, boy was that a good night…you know, back in them days people had time for each other, people made the effort. Now no one wants to put their i-thingees down for five minutes to have a good old drink with a neighbour. 'Cept for you of course, Jason. How's your Gran doing these days?"

I left Bill in Jane's capable hands and went back to waiting on tables. Sadly, business was thin on the ground on a Tuesday night and there weren't many people in. Eric didn't look too happy about that when he came out to have a look around. "Slow night?" he asked me.

"Yeah, but the Burgers Lafayette are doing real well. If more people knew about them, we might get some of them coming in."

Eric shrugged and looked over at Bill, who was still sitting with Jane. "You think he'll be much longer?"

"With Jane? Hard to say, she's mistaken him for Jason, JB and the fella who used to sell her life insurance so far. He could be there all night."

Eric's lips twitched like he was about to smile, but he managed to stop himself in time. "No, I meant with my computer. I need to…I need to get something done."

"Oh. Um. You'll have to ask Bill that. I am not, and never have been, an expert on computers."

"No. Me neither." With that Eric walked off in the direction of Bill.

I finished up my shift and did the last chores of making sure everything was clean and tidy and put away for the next day without seeing Bill and Eric again. I hoped that was a good sign. I transferred my tips, such as they were, from the pocket of my apron to the pocket of my jeans, and said goodnight to Ginger, Lafayette and Long Shadow, who said "You not working tomorrow night, are you?"

"Nope. It's my night off." I was looking forward to my dance class and an evening to do what I pleased all on my own.

Long Shadow nodded at me and turned away and I went out the back, where I added my apron to the dirty laundry hamper in the storeroom and retrieved my purse from my locker.

I was about to knock on Eric's door and say goodnight, when it opened and Bill walked out with his laptop bag in one hand and some part of a computer in the other. "I'll try and get hold of another hard-drive tomorrow," he said, over his shoulder.

"And if you can't?" I heard Eric's voice ask from inside the office.

"Then we'll cross that bridge then." Bill turned back to face Eric. "I will do what I can, I assure you of that." He looked sideways at me and gave me a smile that I think was supposed to say 'look at the idiot I'm dealing with'. I returned it half-heartedly but really, I felt a little for Eric. This was his livelihood after all.

"I'll have to take your word for it," Eric said. "Although you're lucky you have Sookie to recommend you."

"And you're lucky I was available on short-notice and at this hour," Bill said, definitely sounding exasperated now. "Goodnight, Eric."

Bill started to walk towards the exit to the parking lot and I trailed after him, turning to wave a goodbye to Eric in his office. A goodbye he didn't return.

As Bill opened the door, I touched his arm to get his attention. "So, thanks for coming, Bill. It's been a big help."

"At least you realise that, Sookie. I just…are you really doing OK here?"

"What do you mean, Bill?"

Bill looked thoughtful for a moment. "With Eric. He's not taking advantage of you?"

"Not in any sense of the word, no he's not. And anyway, you should have faith in me to fight my own battles. I don't let people walk all over me." I was rapidly losing patience with Bill's insistence on worrying about my moral and emotional wellbeing, but only when it suited him. When it didn't, then he was holed up at the movie theatre watching _Life of Pi_ and discussing metaphorical tigers with Selah. He couldn't have it both ways.

"I just think it's a little odd, him coming down here. Buying this bar. It's like he wants something else, or he's just passing through." That last comment set the little gnawing worry I'd had earlier alight again, but I tried desperately to damp it down. I was too tired to drag it all up now. "I worry about you, Sookie."

"Please don't. Those days are over Bill."

"I don't know if they'll ever be over. Not really."

I nodded, because they would be. They were mostly over for me already, barring a few moments when I wished for the companionship I'd been sorely lacking since Bill and I had parted ways.

I should have said the words, though, because Bill wasn't picking up on the body language clues I was giving him. Instead he bent down and kissed me on the cheek. "Goodnight, sweetheart. I'll see you soon." And then he disappeared into the parking lot.

And a voice behind me said "Do you have a minute, Sookie?"

I really wanted to tell Eric that I was finished up for the night, that I'd done my hours and I was ready to leave, but I didn't. Instead, with as much enthusiasm as a child being taken to the dentist, I turned around and trudged back up the corridor, with each drag of my foot making it more than plain that I was now a reluctant guest of Eric's.

Turns out Eric's not so hot on the body language, either.

"I just wanted to say," Eric began, once we'd gone back into his office. "That it was useful getting Bill here tonight."

I guessed I'd take that as a thank you. "Oh, well. It was nothing." I hoped that was all he had to say on the matter, I wanted to go home.

"It's been, uh…well. I don't have a lot of contacts here. I just…" Eric paused, and seemed to change tack. "He will be discreet, won't he? I don't have to worry about any misuse of confidential information?"

"Oh, Bill? No, I'm sure it will be fine. He's very professional."

"It's just there are…certain matters, that I don't need becoming public knowledge."

I wasn't in the mood for this conversation, and because of that, I let my mouth run away with me a little. "Why, you about to sell this place like Long Shadow thinks you are?"

Eric opened his mouth, and paused. He paused a little too long. Long enough for those damn leaden butterflies to sink to the depths of my stomach again.

I wanted to point my finger at him and yell 'Carpetbagger!', I wanted to tell him how much it hurt that it he was doing all of this behind our backs, I wanted to stamp my foot and say 'It's not fair!', because it wasn't.

But I didn't. Instead all that happened was that I said a quiet "Oh," while Eric started to look a little uncomfortable.

"Is that what you're going to have him look for?" he asked me.

"Who? What?"

"Bill. Are you going to get him to search my records for you, Sookie?" He looked at me, the challenge in his eyes unmistakeable.

"Why on earth would I do that, Eric?"

"Well. He'll do anything for you, after all. He's made that more than plain to me tonight. Must be nice to have someone at your beck and call like that." Eric spat those last few words out at me.

I got a little mad. "That's what you think of me, Eric?"

"I don't have to think it, Sookie. You both made everything more than clear to me earlier."

"What? That we're some kind of industrial espionage team? This is a bar in Louisiana, Eric, not a multi-national company."

"No. Your _relationship_ or whatever it is you want to call it."

By now, I was a lot mad. "Oh. Oh, and I suppose you having Dawn in here, night after night, is completely different. She wasn't at your beck and call at all, was she?"

"Leave Dawn out of this. She's not important." Eric fixed me with the same glare that he'd used to frighten Duff. Well, tough shit. I wasn't frightened.

Or maybe I was too angry to be frightened. Either way, I wasn't backing down. After all, hadn't I told Bill earlier in the night that I could take care of myself?

"Yeah. Of course she's not _important_, Eric. Of course you want her left out of it. Of course you thought just because she's a poor waitress from round here her feelings don't matter and it's OK to toss her aside like trash when you're done with her. Of course you don't see anything wrong in doing it because God knows, around here you're King Eric and we all just have to live under your rule, don't we? "

Eric frowned and regarded me coolly. "You have the wrong idea, Sookie."

"Oh, really Eric? _I'm_ the one with the wrong idea. After you accused me of stringing Bill along in some kind of 'friends with benefits' deal so I could get him in here to do God knows what to your computer? And if that's what Bill is to me, what business is it of yours, anyway? Why can you do it with Dawn, and I can't?"

"I didn't have that kind of relationship with Dawn."

"Yeah. That's what they all say, Eric. All those powerful men who don't think they have to answer to anyone. You know what? I don't care. I think you treated her badly, and I hope it comes back to bite you in the ass, but, aside from that, I don't care what you do, quite frankly. I just want to go home."

Eric opened his mouth, but I spun on my heel and marched right out of there before he could get the words out. I did not want to hear it. I was hurt and a little betrayed and a whole damn bunch of stuff that I was just too tired to process.

I pushed open the door to the parking lot. It looked like it always did this time of night, a small half-circle of light around the door and the rest in darkness. That darkness held my car, and my car was going to get me home. And I wanted to be home, where I could get some peace and quiet and forget all about Eric and his stupid bar.

I was so intent on getting to my car, I didn't notice what else was going on around me, so it was a shock when someone hit me in the back and pushed me over, my hands stinging when they hit the gravel. And then I heard a voice say "Get her."

**Thanks for reading!**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N Well I have been writing every spare moment I have to try to get this out, as I felt a little mean leaving you all with a cliffhanger last chapter. Hope you enjoy it!**

**Disclaimer: Not mine.**

"Get her? I have got her. I knocked her right over," another voice said, somewhere behind me in the darkness. Like the first voice, it was male and I didn't recognise it.

"You ain't got her, at all," the first voice said. "Because she's fixing to just walk on out of here."

He was right, I was. My palms were hurting from the gravel, but I'd sat back on my heels and judged myself mostly whole and I was trying to pin-point the direction my car was in so I could have a straight run there.

I was, however, cursing that I hadn't had my keys ready in my hand as I walked out here. They were tucked away, safely, in a pocket inside my big purse. The same purse that had slid down my arm and fallen to the ground when I'd been pushed over. I started to pull it towards me, cautiously, in the hope the men wouldn't notice the movement.

But that was too much to hope for. A hand reached out and grabbed my arm, the one with the purse-strap slung over it, and yanked me roughly up. In the process my purse slid further down my arm and all the way to the ground. I cursed silently, aware that my chance of grabbing my keys had slipped away along with the purse.

"I got her now!" the second voice said, with a lot more joy than I thought the occasion warranted. I peered at my attacker, but he seemed to be wearing a ski-mask of some kind and I couldn't make out any of his features.

"Well, get her bag," the first voice said. "We got told that's ours, now, didn't we?"

"She'll have tips," the guy holding my arm said. He still sounded happy. I tried to wrench my arm free, but it didn't work. "Oh no, don't fight me girlie. It'll be a lot worse if you fight me."

I wasn't so sure of that. I still had high hopes of being able to get away from these two. To where, I wasn't really sure. They were between me and the door back into the bar, and the one holding my arm had now reached down and picked up my purse, taking my car keys with him. Damn him to hell and back.

"I bet she's made a lot, tonight, with those tits of hers," the one holding me said. "Do I get to squeeze one?"

"Give me her stuff first," the first guy said. He stepped a little closer and I could see that, like his buddy, he'd covered his face too. He reached out for my bag and, as the guy holding me started to hand it over, I kicked out, hoping he'd drop it, or let go of me or something.

He did drop it, but the other guy snatched it up pretty quick. And the one holding me didn't let go of me, instead he dragged me in front of him, so he could put a hand on my other shoulder while standing behind me. My manoeuvre had not worked.

Now I was getting more than a little frightened. At first, I'd been annoyed at their interruption to my plan of getting home and getting to bed, but now I felt vulnerable and very much alone. I had no idea how long it would be until Eric came out into the parking lot, for all I knew he was sleeping there in his office.

I yelled. I yelled "Help" and "Fire" and "Get away from me" and anything I could think of. I yelled as loud as I could into the darkness. I yelled for Eric, even though I was almost certain he wouldn't come.

He didn't come. Instead there was a sudden burst of hot pain across my right cheekbone as the guy holding my bag hit me in the face. It was immediately followed by the back of my head hitting something hard and a yelp of pain from the guy behind me. "Goddammit, Joe. You done near broke my fuckin' nose!"

"Well, move your head away, you moron. You want her yelling the place down and that boss-guy coming out here?"

"No, but I don't see why I have to be the one to get hurt. You come and hold her for a bit, she's all wriggly now."

I was all wriggly now. I was trying my darndest to get him to let me go, even though the bag-holding guy who'd hit me was still standing right in my way. I wasn't going to let them… I wasn't even going to think about that. Getting away from them, that was step number one.

"Jesus fuckin' Christ. Stop bein' such a damn baby. She's just a girl, and you were wantin' to feel her up a minute ago."

"Well, I still do. But she's gotta be still first, else it ain't gonna be no fun."

Because I was moving so much, he'd had to move his hands from holding on to just my upper arms, and he'd wrapped one arm right across my chest now. As I wriggled, it moved up until it was across my throat, pinning me against him. I bent forwards and I bit his wrist, as hard as I could, forcing myself not to feel too disgusted about being that close to him.

Like I'd said to Eric, I very rarely bite. But when I do, I like to give it my all.

"Ow! Fuck. You fuckin' whore!" he cursed, but it did the trick and he loosened his grip, which was worth the insults. I dropped to the ground, and I yelled again, just in case someone would actually hear me.

I was trying to re-gain my balance to start a run, when the guy who'd just let me go swiftly kicked me in the hip, ruining my chance. I pitched forward and, once again, my hands hit the gravel of the parking lot. I scrambled a bit, trying to stop falling to my knees when I felt his hands grabbing at my waist.

He missed, I fell to my knees and then I twisted my ankle painfully trying to stand up. But as I did so he reached out and grabbed my ponytail, pulling it hard and jerking my neck backwards, which forced me to lean back and stopped me standing right up.

I'd really thought I was going to get away, and the fact that I hadn't brought as many tears of frustration to my eyes as there were tears of pain from the hair-pulling. I wondered what was going to happen next, whether they were going to drag me into a car, or just into the woods that came up almost to the parking lot. I wondered if I'd ever be seen again.

"Fuck. She ain't nothin' but trouble," the guy holding my hair said, as I tried to hit out at his arm and scratch at his hand and make him let go. It didn't work though, and he managed to grab one of my hands in the other one of his and twist it up behind my back. He made it sound like I was doing this deliberately, just to ruin his plans for the night. Well, he ruined my plans so he could go suck it.

"I don't know why you're botherin'," the other voice said. "It ain't part of the plan to try fightin' with her. And you're losin' anyways. To a girl."

"Oh, I fuckin' am not. Look, I got her, don't I?"

"Till she bites you again. Or kicks you in the nuts."

That was what I was trying to do. He'd pulled me up a bit higher now, so I was almost out of my crouch, and I aimed a kick behind me, but missed. Still, he'd had to side-step which had made it harder to keep a grip on my hair. A few more kicks and he might let go altogether.

"Sure those tits are worth it?" the voice by the door to the bar asked my captor.

"Now I just wanna teach her a lesson." He pulled on my hair, hard, as he said that.

"Yeah, but I sure as shit don't want to go to jail when they find the body. Ain't worth it. C'mon, let's go to Shreveport with her tips and have us a much better time." I realised there was a hint of pleading in the other guys voice and I hoped his buddy gave in.

"Oh. Fuck it. All right, we're done." All of a sudden the hand released my hair and I was pushed forward, back onto the ground again. By the sharp pain in my knees I figured that my jeans had finally given way but I didn't care. I started crawling towards the half-circle of light in front of the door.

"Tell him next time, it's a customer," one of the voices said, but I didn't really pay a lot of attention. My one thought was door. If I could reach the door, I'd be safe, I'd be OK. I didn't look behind me, I didn't want to know if they were still there, or what they were doing.

I reached the door and, with shaky fingers, I pushed the numbers into the keypad to unlock it, as I heard tyres squeal and gravel crunch on the other side of the parking lot. I pulled open the door and threw myself inside and onto the floor of the corridor. And then I started sobbing.

I don't know how long I sat there, but it was how Eric found me, tears streaming down my face, hair wild, palms and knees bloodied, my cheek probably already bruising, and my chest heaving with the effort of getting out everything I'd been keeping in the whole time I was out there fighting to stay safe.

I stopped sobbing and looked up, just in time for Eric to ask "What did you do?"

I burst out laughing.

I'm not sure that Eric liked that much more than the crying. I noted that he'd been standing a safe distance from me, and now he took a step backwards, probably scared of the crazy lady with the changeable moods. Guess this was what it was like being Jane Bodehouse.

"Sookie. Can you tell me what happened?" Eric asked.

I stopped laughing and started sobbing again, and I shook my head for no. I couldn't talk. Not right then, anyway.

I was really confusing Eric. He steeled himself and came a little closer to me, and then crouched down. "You got hurt," he announced.

I nodded yes.

"In the parking lot."

I nodded again.

"How?"

I took a deep breath and said, in a shaky voice that sounded small and scared and not like mine at all "I got mugged."

"Mugged?" Eric asked, like I'd said the strangest thing. "Here?"

"Yeah."

"By…who?"

"Muggers, I guess. Two of 'em. They'd covered their faces, so I didn't see who they were. They took my purse."

Eric didn't reply to that, he just sat back on his heels and looked at me. And then he looked like he thought of something. "You're supposed to hand it over, not fight them for it."

"Oh, right. Yeah Eric, I'm sure that works just swell in New York or wherever all the polite muggers live, you-all just handing over your things as soon as they ask. I don't have much and I ain't just giving it away. And I sure as hell just ain't…ain't…" I stopped talking as another sob came bubbling out of my chest. I wasn't letting them take me. I wasn't letting them feel me up, like one of them had wanted to, or do anything worse. I just wasn't.

Eric pressed his lips together. "Don't cry," he said, and I kind of hoped he might comfort me a little, but he just said "It's hardly going to help matters now."

"No. No, you're right, Eric." I sniffed loudly and wiped at my eyes with my hand. "I'm OK. Just a little shaken up is all."

"Good," Eric said, standing up and holding out his hand to me. "Let's get you…ah, fixed up then."

I let Eric haul me to my feet, and then followed him back into his office. "Sit," he said, and I did, in his big desk chair. He started rummaging around on the shelves behind the desk and muttering a bit, and then he disappeared out of the room altogether and he was gone a while. I wondered if I was supposed to follow him, but exhaustion had set in and staying put seemed a much better idea.

When Eric arrived back he was carrying a large bowl, a towel, and what looked like a first-aid kit. I'd almost dozed off by that point, and roused myself as he walked through the door. "It took me a while," he acknowledged. "That kitchen is…I don't know how he finds anything."

"Lafayette?" I asked. Eric nodded, as he put down everything he was carrying. "Oh, he just yells at D'Eriq until D'Eriq gets it for him."

"Seems like a logical way to go about it," Eric said. "OK, hold this on your cheek." He handed me a small plastic bag filled with ice, which I dutifully put against my face. "Now, put your other hand on the desk." I did that, palm facing up, and Eric adjusted his desk lamp so he could see better.

"You tell fortunes, too?" I asked, as he peered at my palm.

"Uh-huh. I see pain in your near future."

"Ow!" Eric had pulled out some of the gravel with a pair of tweezers he'd located in the first aid kid. "Wow, you're very accurate, Eric."

"It's one of my many skills," he murmured, still intent on my hand.

"Well, I'm glad you have some because you suck at fixing computers." Eric laughed at that, and I felt a little better and maybe noticed the pain in my hands and my knees and my cheek a little less.

"I got a lecture. Earlier," Eric commented.

"I heard. Back-ups _are_ important, Eric."

"Apparently so. But this was about my housekeeping." He stopped pulling gravel out of my hand and reached over and lifted up the small trash-can he kept in his office. On top of the waste paper that was in there I could see a big pile of grey dust and fibres all clumped together. "That was in the fan of the computer. You can't let it get too clogged up, or else it overheats and dies. Or something. Bill was not impressed."

I waited half a beat for Eric to add something else about Bill and me, but he didn't, and I was glad. I was willing to put our argument from earlier in the evening aside. Maybe that was a little fickle of me, but right then, I just needed a friend.

"You need to get better cleaners in here," I said to him.

"I know. Also, now I know there's a fan in the computer."

"Wow. Never occurred to you that's what the whirring sound was, huh?'

"Not once." Eric looked up from my hand and smiled at me, and I smiled back.

Eric finished up my hand and applied some antiseptic cream, and then he looked at my right hand, which wasn't nearly so bad.

"How do they feel now?" he asked.

"Better," I said, meeting Eric's gaze as he looked from my hands to my face. "I'm sure glad that doctoring _is_ one of your skills."

Eric chuckled at that. "And I'm glad you weren't hurt any worse, Sookie. There's a limit to my skills."

"Plus it would be a pain in the ass to replace a waitress at short notice."

"I couldn't replace you, Sookie."

"Oh."

"No. Well, where else am I going to find a waitress who knows the accounting software?"

"Oh, yeah. Well, we are hard to come by, us waitresses-slash-bookkeepers." Pam was right, I was helpful. Good old, helpful, Sookie.

"I think you're quite unique, Sookie. And I wouldn't want to lose you." Eric reached up and gently turned my chin to the side to get a look at my bruised cheek. "That seems a little better now."

"It does," I sniffed. I was still having a reaction to the attack, because now I was crying again.

"No. No, just don't." Eric drew back from me.

"I'm sorry," I said, crying harder.

"Could you be sorry with less crying?"

"No. Not really. I just…I was so scared. Scared I'd never see anyone I knew again."

"Well, you did. You didn't let them take you. I don't think you should cry over that."

"I bit one of them."

"And you very rarely bite."

"Yeah."

"I'm glad you fought them."

"Yeah. Me too." I gave Eric a small smile, and he returned it.

We were silent for a moment, my sobs having subsided now. It wasn't an uneasy silence, though. Well, not totally uneasy. I was feeling OK. It took me a moment to realise that Eric was rubbing the back of my hand and that might have had something to do with it.

Right about then, I was willing to soak up any little scrap of comfort I could take.

"OK," Eric said. "Um…I'll take a look at your knees." He reached out and touched one, gingerly.

"Oh, no. That's OK. I think you've done enough now."

"No, I think I should at least clean them a little. Uh, can you take your jeans off?"

I thought about that. "No, it'll be fine Eric. I'll just fix them up at home."

"But, Sookie. I have all my supplies out here now." He gestured to the bowl of water and the antiseptic cream.

"Oh. All right then." I was just being silly, wasn't I? I mean, sitting in my bikini briefs wasn't going to be any worse than sitting around at the lake in a bikini, was it?

Somehow it was, but, after everything I'd been through, being partially undressed in front of Eric, who was, after all, trying to help me, didn't seem like it should be a big deal.

I stood up, and reluctantly unbuttoned my jeans and started to slip them down my legs. I half-expected that Eric might be gentlemanly and look away, or even turn his back, but that didn't happen. Instead he watched with curiosity.

"I'm feeling a little self-conscious here," I said, as I pushed my jeans further down my legs, thankful that at least Eric wasn't behind me when I was bending over.

"Sookie, if I really wanted to see you in your underwear, I would have thought of a much better way to achieve that. Something that required you losing less skin for a start."

"Well, that would have been nice." Getting my jeans over my skinned knees had been kind of painful, but having managed it, I sat back down in the chair.

"You have very nice skin, Sookie." Eric crouched in front of me and although he was supposed to be looking after my knees, his focus seemed to be a little higher, on the skin of my thigh.

"Well. Thank you, Eric." I figured even if I was a little uncomfortable, I could remain polite and this didn't have to get any worse. After all he wasn't going to make a move on me, was he? Eric was washing my knees now, his head bent very close to his task. I could feel his breath on my leg.

I shifted a little uncomfortably, and pulled my t-shirt down as tight as I could. Right then I sure wished that I was wearing the large sized t-shirt Eric had given me to wear the night I'd had beer thrown on me.

All of a sudden something occurred to me.

"Eric, I think I might have an idea who it was."

"Who?" He looked up, frowning slightly.

"The guys who mugged me. "

"But you said they covered their faces. So I don't think…"

I cut him off. "It was those guys. The beer-throwers. One of the muggers, he called me girlie. So did the friend of the guy who threw the beer."

Eric stopped work on my knees and looked thoughtful. "But you didn't see their faces." he reiterated.

"No. But one of them was called Joe…at least, I think he was." That was what I remembered but, to be honest, I'd had other things on my mind at the time. "We should tell the police. Tell them what I know, at least. And that someone was out there."

Eric stood up now, and stopped making eye contact. "But you don't remember much, Sookie. A name…which might be wrong, one of them using a term someone else used once. He's the only other person who called you girlie? Ever?"

I shrugged. I didn't know. Seemed more than likely, though, that he wasn't the only person. "I could say how tall they were…or something."

"And were they tall? Or short? Or just average?"

"Average. I guess." Boy, Eric sure didn't think much of my powers of observation. "But I'm sure I'd know them…if I saw them again."

"Sookie…" Eric sounded very grim all of a sudden. "I don't want to rain on your parade, but all of this stuff, it just isn't going to add up to an ID, or even an arrest. The best the cops will know is that you were mugged, here in the parking lot, and that you think it might have been a couple of guys you once served, but maybe it wasn't, and one of them might possibly be called Joe. Aside from that all you can say is that it was two guys, with nothing notable about them, and whose faces you couldn't see, who were hanging around the parking lot looking to mug someone leaving a bar. It's hardly going to be the number one policing priority. Even here."

"So…you don't think I should even report it?" This all seemed a little odd to me. I'd been brought up to believe that when you witnessed a crime, you should tell the police. And if you were the victim of the crime, then they'd do their best to get you justice. What did Eric know that I didn't?

"Sookie, I just don't think it's going to be that, uh, big a deal." Eric looked at me. "Although, of course, to you it's been traumatic."

He sounded so smooth when he said that, that I was starting to believe him. But then he said. "I just can't see a mugging, in the parking lot of a bar, being something the police could really solve."

And then I caught on. It was the fact it happened here. In the parking lot. In the parking lot of Eric's bar.

He didn't want anyone else to know.

Sure, he might be sorry I got hurt, wish it hadn't happened, try to make sure it didn't happen again, but he wasn't going to make it public, if he could avoid it. He didn't want the customers getting spooked, after all.

And, as much as it made me sick to my stomach, made me feel like a liar and a cheat, I had to agree with Eric. None of us could afford the bar to lose any business.

"Yeah," I said. "I guess you're right."

"I knew you'd see it that way too." That just made it ten times worse. Like I was the gullible idiot Eric could count on to go along with whatever he wanted. I might not have wanted to be like Dawn, visiting Eric's office when the mood took him, but I didn't think I was much better than her. He seemed to be able to talk me into things too. A few compliments here and there, about how he couldn't manage without me and I was nothing more than putty in his hands.

I looked at Eric and he didn't look all that triumphant, not like a person who'd just successfully got someone else to see it all his way, anyway. He looked kind of defiant like he half-expected me to argue with him over it all. I didn't have the energy for that.

"I better get home," I said. I stood up and started to pull my jeans on again, easing them over my scratched and torn knees. I put my shoes back on, and I straightened up, ready to head on out to my car…

Oh.

"I don't have my keys," I confessed to Eric.

"What?"

"My keys. They were in my bag."

"Well, why?"

"Because that's where I keep them. And I didn't expect to get mugged. In the parking lot." I least I still had my tips, they were in the pocket of my jeans, but I'd lost everything else I'd been carrying. My car keys, my wallet, the silver necklace Gran had bought me on my 18th birthday which I'd been meaning to take to get the clasp fixed…

Well, there was no good dwelling on that now. I should just be grateful that I was in one piece.

"I guess I'll take you home, then." Eric sure didn't sound thrilled about that. I waited while he returned the bowl and things to the kitchen and then switched all the lights off and checked the front door was locked, and then I followed him silently out into the parking lot.

"I'll have to get my car tomorrow," I said. Eric didn't reply. "If it's still there."

"I think it will be fine in the parking lot, Sookie."

"Like I was fine?" Eric and I had reached his Corvette now, and he walked right around to the driver's door, and opened it.

"You are. In the end."

"Yeah. No thanks to you. I yelled, you know. I yelled your name. You didn't come."

"I didn't hear." Eric sounded exasperated as he climbed into the car. I opened the passenger door and did the same thing, and then I gave the door a rather satisfying slam which earned me a glare from Eric.

Well, he didn't seem to give a damn about my car, so I wasn't going to treat his like it was something precious.

"No, I got that at the time. When you didn't come out."

"You should have tried to call someone," Eric informed me. "Even just dialled it on your phone."

"I didn't have my phone." Eric turned to look at me as he started the engine. "It's in the glove compartment of my car."

"Well, what the fuck use is it there, Sookie?"

"I didn't know it was going to be an issue, did I? No one told me one of the joys of working here was the muggers lurking in the parking lot. Plus the battery's all messed up and it doesn't work for long. I wanted to save it for the drive home."

Eric huffed out a breath, sounding quite exasperated. "Well, then. You should replace it. You need to think more about your safety." That was easy for him to say. I didn't have the spare cash for things like new cellphones.

"And you need to get better lights out in that parking lot, Eric. That one measly bulb doesn't cut it. By the way you're going the wrong way." He'd turned out of the parking lot and was currently heading towards Shreveport, not Bon Temps.

"What?"

"Wrong way. My house is back in Bon Temps. Behind us."

Eric muttered something and slowed the car right down, before looking over his shoulder and turning the car around in a smooth circle. Then he hit the gas again and we were flying down the highway in the right direction this time.

"I guess you never did go visit Dawn at home, then," I said. I don't really know why. I was just mad at that moment and Eric seemed like the best choice out of all the people I could be mad at. I'd been mad at him quite a lot that night and I thought that maybe that said something about his personal interactions with people. Clearly, he wasn't really cut out for ever leaving that office.

"Why do you have to keep bringing Dawn up, Sookie?" Eric sounded really angry now, too.

"Why do you want to sweep your whole relationship under the carpet? Oh right, because it wasn't a relationship. It was a booty call, and you're embarrassed by it."

"Stop telling me what I am, Sookie."

"Stop telling me what to do." I didn't like it when Bill did that, and I sure as hell wasn't going to take it from Eric either.

Eric didn't reply to that, but the car sped up a little and I gripped the door hoping we'd make it safely round all the corners we had to. After all, it would be a shame to survive a mugging only to die in a car accident later that same night.

With the minimum of words I managed to give Eric directions through Bon Temps and onto Hummingbird Road. When we turned into my driveway and hit the first deep rut Eric cursed and slowed the car right down, but he didn't say anything. His thoughts were kind of obvious though, he wasn't thinking kind things about me, or my driveway.

We pulled up to the house and I was in no mood to have Eric hang around and pass any judgements about my house. I had opened the door and was getting out almost before Eric had brought the car to a stop.

"Do you have keys?" he asked, brusquely.

"Spare ones. Under the plant pot. No, it's probably not safe, but anyone that survives the driveway maybe deserves a reward like being able to rob me in my sleep."

I could see by the little light on the roof of the car that Eric didn't like that comment at all. He thought I was being childish. I probably was, but I'd had a damned shitty night and I thought I deserved to blow off a little steam.

I went to shut the door of the car, but Eric put out his arm to stop me. "Sookie," he said, and then he paused. "What, uh…what will you say?"

I took a moment to catch his meaning. "I'll say it was an accident at home, say that something fell on me. Something large and particularly obnoxious."

Eric didn't rise to that one, he just nodded and pulled the door closed from the inside, and then he drove off into the darkness. I started the hunt for the spare key to my door.

Keys in hand, I opened the door and felt a wave of exhaustion hit me. I really wanted a shower, and I mostly wanted to climb into bed, but instead I slumped to the floor and just sat there. I was scared, there was no denying that, I was scared and I was hurt that Eric didn't want to make it public, didn't want anyone to know I'd been attacked when it had felt so personal. They'd wanted my tips. They might have been the guys who'd been ticked off when Long Shadow tossed them out for dousing me in beer. They might come back. Or they might mess with my car, they did have the keys after all.

I was just about to stand up, to make myself stand up and walk to my bedroom off the hallway, when I remembered something. Something those men had said when I'd been focussing on getting myself back into the bar.

They'd said _Tell him._ They'd said _Tell him, next time it's a customer._

There was only one him I'd be likely to tell. It wasn't me they were after at all. I was just delivering a message.

A message to Eric.

**Thanks for reading!**


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N Well, I managed to get another one written! Thanks to everyone following along as I slowly download this out of my head :)**

**Disclaimer: Not mine.**

I woke up late the next morning, and it took me a few moments to connect the various aches and pains I felt with what had happened to me the previous night. Following the thread of my memories I arrived at the same point I'd been at when I'd sat on the floor of my house the night before; I'd been attacked to get a message to Eric.

I had slept on it, but I still didn't know what to do with that information.

I slowly sat up and swung my legs out of bed, and then eased myself down the floor. I could feel the pain in my ankle and in my hip, where I'd been kicked, a little more keenly now, but I thought that my knees weren't as bad as they had been.

Thanks to Eric. Maybe.

A took a long hot shower which eased some of the aches, but made my hands sting. My knees I'd covered with some waterproof dressings, but there wasn't much I could do for my palms unless I wasn't going to use my hands, and they were kind of essential to the process of shampooing hair.

It felt good to get clean, but I might have felt better if I'd been able to get my thoughts clear as well. I hoped that some coffee might help me with that, so I dressed myself in a clean white t-shirt and some old, pink cotton clam-diggers that were a little frayed around the edges, but which covered up my knees.

My face was a whole other matter. Short of wearing a ski-mask like those my attackers had sported, I was stuck staring at my rapidly-bruising reflection in the mirror. I therefore didn't linger at my dressing table, but brushed my hair into a ponytail and declared myself ready to face the day.

I started some coffee in the kitchen and looked out at the yard around the house. It looked a little empty without my car parked out there. I sighed. I was going to have to figure out how to get back to the bar to collect it without telling anyone what had happened.

But first I'd have breakfast.

I heated a cheese and bacon breakfast sandwich in the microwave and sat down to enjoy the greasy, oozing treat.

When it was finished, and my coffee cup was almost empty, I realised I had to attend to more pressing matters. I still had no idea what to do about the message from my mugger, so I tried to work out a plan to get my car back instead.

I ran through the list of all the people I could call who could drive me to the Roadhouse that day. The morning was nearly over, so Jason would be at work and probably none too keen on the idea of using his lunchbreak to ferry me around. Tara would probably do it, but I would feel guilty about costing her the gas money, and Bill, well, I'd probably had enough of Bill for the meantime the previous night.

And if any of them saw my face, I was going to be stuck answering a set of questions I didn't yet have an answer to. And that was yet one more thing I had to worry about today.

I began to feel that my worries were piling up faster than I could deal with them. I poured a fresh cup of coffee and stood at the counter, trying to think it all through.

I looked at the cupboards, fixed to the wall above the counter-top. I opened one of the doors and leaned into the door-knob which stuck out from it. The knob was round and smooth and some of the once-cheerful red paint had worn off over the years as this was the cupboard we kept the glasses for sweet tea in.

The knob just about connected with the spot on my cheekbone where I was sporting a nice purple bruise. I guessed if I was going to lie about how it had happened, that was as good a lie as any.

My heart sank at the thought of all the people I might have to tell that lie to. There was simply no way I could hide out in my house until the bruise had healed; even if I'd skipped that night's dance class, I would have to go to work the next day. No, I was better to pick something simple that wasn't going to arouse suspicions and cause me problems further down the track.

I wondered idly if I should ask Amelia to take me to my car. After all, she'd missed noticing that Pam was getting thinner and more tired-looking, maybe my bruised cheek would completely pass her by?

Just then I heard the unmistakable sound of a vehicle crunching up the gravel driveway towards the house. I wondered if it was Jason, and I shut the cupboard door and took a few deep breaths. Would Jason bust me on my lie? After all, I'd lived here most of my life without collecting that cupboard door with my face, and I'd hardly just been through a growth spurt.

But when I glanced out the window I saw it wasn't Jason driving up. It was the tow-truck from Downey's auto-repairs, with my little old car attached to the back.

Jim Downey himself was jumping out of the cab when I walked outside to greet him. "Mornin' Sookie!" he called, cheerfully. "You havin' a good day?"

"Can't complain none, Jim," I called back.

"Well, you'll be real happy to get your car back, I bet."

"I sure will. You get called out to go and get it?"

"Uh-huh. Your boss, that, uh…Northson?"

"Northman."

"Yeah, he called me real early, but I could only just get the truck out there now. You want to sign this to say I brought it to you, and I can unhook it from the truck?"

I signed the paper on the clipboard Jim passed to me and, when I handed it back, I noticed he was looking at my cheek.

"Oh, um. Caught a cupboard. In the kitchen. Shouldn't of left it open…" I trailed off. Jim nodded. "I got a mechanic off at the moment took a hunk of his shin off with an open toolbox. You gotta look around you. It ain't like I can afford to lose the staff right at the moment."

He tossed the clipboard into the truck's window and walked to the back. "You got a lot of work on?" I asked him.

"Uh-huh. That I do, Sookie. Can't say as the economy's been that bad for me, folks don't replace their vehicles, they just get 'em fixed. 'Course only if I got the labour to do it. Else they take 'em to Minden and the Aucions get the business instead of me."

"Well, that does sound difficult for you," I sympathised. I figured there weren't too many people who could complain about having too much work right about now, but a problem was a problem.

I watched as Jim climbed back into the truck and my car was lowered to the ground, and then uncoupled. When that process was completed, Jim came back over to me. "Now, your boss, he said to ask whether you found your keys yet?"

"My keys? Yes. I found them. They were in the pocket of my jeans all the time." I gave a little shrug. Well, I'd lied to Jim once, what was one more? Luckily I had a spare set nestled safely in the little glass heart-shaped box which sat on top of my dressing table in the bedroom.

"Great. I coulda fitted a new lock, but not today. Although your boss was pretty keen that I do it as soon as I could…guess you need that to get to work, huh?" He nodded over at my car.

"Oh. Yes." Nice of Eric to worry about me getting there to serve beer the next night.

"He said you're real important to him. Must be nice to be in the boss's good books, huh Sookie?" Jim gave me a wink, and I wasn't quite sure how to take that comment. I think he sensed my reticence on the matter and he added "I mean, you're sure doing well, now, ain't you? Your Gran'd be proud."

Well, that was a little different. I wasn't sure where Jim had got the impression that I was managing the Roadhouse, or whatever it was he thought I was doing, but I didn't feel like contradicting him. Let him think I was very important to the smooth running of the place and that Eric couldn't do without me.

"She would," I said simply. It was the truth.

"Well, I better get goin' now, Sookie. Check on the boys back at the shop, make sure they're all workin' hard for me!"

"Thanks again, Jim. You've been a real big help."

Jim turned from where he was climbing back into the cab of the truck. "Heh. I didn't do it for free, Sookie, but I sure appreciate the gratitude. See you round, Sookie!" Jim started the engine and, with a wave out the window, backed the truck back down towards the driveway.

I gave my car a little pat, happy to see it again, and went inside to deal with some of my other problems. A couple of hours later, after a few phone calls to the bank, I'd managed to cancel my debit card and make sure that no money had been taken. It could have been worse, I reasoned, I had had my tips in my pocket, after all, I didn't own a credit card, and my driver's license had been tucked safely in the glove compartment of my car.

I was about to sit down with a cool glass of tea, when my phone rang. Thinking it might be the bank calling to check some more details I rushed to answer it and, in my haste, spilt some of the tea on myself.

So I sounded a little annoyed when I finally said my greeting into the receiver.

"Sookie? Are you OK?" Bill asked me.

I sighed quietly, so Bill wouldn't hear. It was tempting to say that no, I wasn't OK, and then pour out all my frustrations to him, but I knew that I had to hold up my end of the relationship bargain. If I was going to say it was over, it had to be over.

"No, I'm good. Just spilt a little tea on myself."

"OK. Well, I was wondering if you could do me a favour today, Sookie?"

It seemed only fair given he'd driven over to the Roadhouse on a mercy mission to save Eric's computer the night before. "Sure, Bill. What do you need?"

"Um…I've got something for Eric. Could you call in and pick it up?"

"Oh. I can. But I'm not working tonight. It's my dance class."

"Right. Yes. Of course. Well, could you come anyway?"

"I guess. If it's urgent I could stop by on my way to class…" I wasn't doing a very good job of mustering any enthusiasm for Bill's request.

"I'd appreciate that greatly, Sookie. I'll see you this afternoon." He hung up and I couldn't help but feel like I'd been roped into something I didn't really want to do, again.

I huffed my way around the house getting ready and muttering all the things I'd like to say to Eric about how much I was paying for making sure he got his computer fixed. It may have been that I was mostly annoyed for a bunch of other reasons that I was trying not to dwell on, but I'd have to settle for the fact that I was now stuck running errands for Bill.

A little earlier than the time I'd normally leave for class, I set off down my driveway, happy, at least, to have my car back again. I pulled into Bill's driveway and parked next to his house, before jogging up the steps to the porch and knocking.

Bill answered the door and then stopped, looking at something…oh! I'd forgotten about that bruise.

"What happened?" he said, reaching out to touch my chin. I moved my head away and he withdrew his hand.

"I had a run-in with a kitchen cupboard."

"Did you?" Bill frowned at me. "That seems a little unlike you."

"Yeah. I hadn't had my coffee yet; these late nights are getting to me!" I shrugged a little and Bill gave me one last questioning look before he stepped aside to let me in the house. "Please come in," he said, so I did.

We walked through to Bill's office. His house was like it was always was, cool and dark and ever so quiet. I wondered how Bill felt, rattling about in this big old place all by himself. I thought about asking him, but stopped myself, not wanting to open up a conversation about Bill's feelings which might lead me down a path I didn't want to take.

It was complicated, this breaking-up thing. Every time I thought I had all the rules straight in my head, something else cropped up that threatened to trip me up and send me tumbling back towards Bill.

But I was determined to keep myself on the straight and narrow today. I had enough complications in my life as it was, thanks mainly to Eric. I didn't need to add Bill's feelings about being a bachelor to them.

"So, do you think he'll know what to do with it?" I asked Bill, as I stood just inside the office door and watched Bill walk over to his desk.

Bill turned and frowned. "Who will? What?"

"Eric. When I take him…whatever it is. I don't know if he can put a hard-drive in himself." I worried that Eric and the insides of a computer were a fatal combination.

"No. No. I wouldn't expect him to do anything like that." Bill managed to sound only slightly scathing and I thought that had probably taken quite some effort on his part. "No, I was doing my accounts today and wondered if you'd drop the bill for last night in to Eric. When you're next at work, of course. Don't make a special journey out there on my account."

Bill handed over a piece of paper and I took it from him. "The bill. Oh. OK."

"It's quite reasonable, Sookie. I don't think Eric will baulk at what I'm charging him. Not for the service he received."

"And you did give Eric good service," I replied, which made Bill give me an annoyed look. "After all, there was a lot of dust in that fan."

"No one ever thinks that could be their problem and all it is is simple housekeeping. It doesn't matter how much money you spend on a computer, it will still stop working if the fan can't turn."

"No. I guess not." I looked at the invoice in my hand. There was something unsettling about the haste with which Bill was trying to re-coup his money from Eric.

"Bill, it seems awful early to be asking Eric to pay you. I mean, you haven't really fixed the thing yet, have you?"

Bill shrugged. "I was doing my accounts anyway and figured I might as well include the work to date."

"So, you're not, uh…" I tried to think how to phrase it. Direct was probably best. "Bill, are you worried Eric won't be able to pay you? Or might skip out on paying you?"

"No," Bill said, maybe a beat too late. "No. I just…look. I said it was accounts day, and it was. If it's too much trouble I could post it, but that seemed like over-kill when you're there all the time."

Bill was sure annoyed now, and it was kind of hard to tell what he was more annoyed about; the fact I'd asked about why he needed to bill Eric right now, or the fact I was spending all that time at the Roadhouse.

"Well, he does pay me to show up and spend time there. And, you know, do stuff for him. Like serve drinks." I tried to throw Bill a significant look, but he managed to dodge it.

Fine then. I guess it was just my lot in life to be Eric Northman's chief messenger and spend my time delivering invoices and…well, vague and threatening messages. My heart sank. Something around here wasn't right and, as much as I didn't want to be involved, I felt like I was.

"So, you don't think the Roadhouse'll close?" I asked Bill, and my voice sounded a lot needier than I wanted it to.

Bill looked at me again and he was looking more sympathetic than annoyed now. I didn't want him to be sympathetic. I wanted him to be reassuring, or perhaps casually dismissive because my ideas about the financial stability of my place of employment were on a par with my ideas about his metaphorical tiger.

"I just…I'm not the person to ask, Sookie," Bill replied. "I wish I was."

"Oh. Yeah. I mean. I'm sure Eric's got it under control," I said, trying to back-track. I turned and started walking back out of the office and through the hallway which was spliced by a bright shard of light from the late afternoon sun as it came through the one narrow window. I was about to turn the corner and walk past the dining room, when I peeked in instead.

"That's a really beautiful shawl," I said, looking at the dining room table.

"It is. I was pleased to unearth that."

I stepped closer, and I ran a hand across the cool, dark silk, feeling the embroidery and then fingering the dark red fringing. "Say, Bill, do you think I could borrow it?"

"Borrow it?" Bill sounded surprised.

"Yeah. For my dance class. We need a prop and I think this would just be lovely." I turned and looked at Bill hopefully.

Bill's forehead creased. "You want to dance naked in Aunt Edwina's Spanish shawl?"

"Oh, Bill. You wish." That was the wrong thing to say, because the way he looked at me right then, like he was remembering all the things we'd ever done together, made it quite clear that he did wish. "It's burlesque, Bill. Remember? You don't really take anything off."

Somewhere in my brain that sounded like an echo, but I couldn't place it.

"I promise I'll be careful with it," I said, feeling a little like I had as a girl when I'd beg to be allowed to look at Gran's china ladies, and she'd carefully hand them to me so I could admire their old fashioned dresses and painted on smiles.

Bill shrugged. "I guess. I don't really mind. It's just catching the dust lying around here. Better it adorn something lovely."

I shook my head slightly at Bill's flattery, but didn't reply. Instead I scooped my prize off the table and started walking back towards the front door.

"Well, goodbye Bill," I said, when I reached the threshold. "Thanks for the shawl and I promise I'll get this to Eric, just as soon as I'm next at work."

Bill nodded. "I think…" he began, and then he put his hands in his pockets and looked down before looking up again. "I think if you ask him, he'll be straight with you. Relatively speaking, anyway. He, uh…he seems to like you. Maybe even trust you."

"Oh. Eric? Yeah. Maybe." I was appreciative of Bill's belated attempt to reassure me, but somehow the idea of Eric trusting me about this didn't mix with the knowledge I had of the guy who wanted me to keep quiet about my attack.

"I just wish," Bill continued. "That it could go back to being the way it was between us." I struggled a little with that statement; it seemed a huge leap from asking Eric about his business to the relationship between me and Bill.

"Well, it can't." I wanted to put it as succinctly as I could. "And you never know, maybe you'll have something with Selah that's better than what you had with me."

Bill sighed. "Selah and I…we want different things. It just wasn't right."

Oh. I was unsure what to do about that. I wanted to sympathise, but I also wanted to keep a little distance from Bill and his romantic attachments, or lack of them. I felt like I'd gone full-circle from my first thoughts on entering his house that day.

"I'm sure you'll be OK," I said. "And you'll find someone who does want what you want."

"But she won't be you, will she Sookie?"

Ah. No. I tried to think of a way to let him down gently, but he continued on. "I guess then, I'll just have to let you go."

I was a little annoyed at that statement, but decided it just wasn't worth getting riled up over. "Thanks again for the shawl, Bill."

"Anytime, Sookie."

I raised my hand in a wave, and Bill suddenly reached forward and grabbed my wrist. I was confused for a moment why, but then he said "You've hurt your hands too."

I pulled my hand back. "Yeah, I pruned Gran's roses earlier and had a fight with some thorns. I can't say as I won, exactly." I hadn't really spent time thinking of a reason for the injuries to my hands, but I was fairly pleased with what I'd come up with in the spur of the moment. I was just glad that the exercise leggings I had on to wear to class covered my knees.

"You've had an interesting time since I saw you last."

"Don't I know it." It was tempting to confess all to Bill, to tell him my gnawing worry that something wasn't right about the Roadhouse and that it almost certainly involved Eric himself.

But it would have felt disloyal to Eric. While his concerns about Bill's discretion the night before might have been due to the fact he was doing something illegal or immoral, or both, it was still his own business. I felt a little damned if I did and damned if I didn't.

"Sookie, you'd tell me, wouldn't you? If…if something bad had happened to you? If you were in trouble?"

Twenty-four hours earlier I would have said yes without hesitation but that didn't feel like it was true anymore. Instead I managed a weak "I'm fine, Bill. Don't fret over me. Goodbye, now."

"Goodbye, Sookie. You take better care of yourself." With that he closed the door, and I moved on to less complicated encounters.

At least, that's what I hoped.

Even with my detour to Bill's house, I was early for class and the parking lot was still full of cars presumably belonging to the mothers who'd brought their children to fairy ballet. I found a small spot and squeezed my car in, and then got out carrying a purse I'd pulled out from the back of the closet, with the shawl placed inside it. The purse was pale pink and the vinyl was cracked on the corners and I'd out-grown it a few years' previously, but I didn't have a lot of choice.

I didn't think I'd ever see my good purse again.

I squinted in the sunshine and saw Tara's car pull into the lot as well. She drove past me with a friendly wave and then spent some time reversing into a spot I'd discounted as just being too darn awkward to attempt.

Tara emerged from the car looking hot and bothered. "I knew I was a little early, but this is ridiculous."

"Yeah. I guess the class is getting popular," I replied.

Tara blew out a breath and put a hand on her hip. "Well, I guess we should go in. At least we'll get to watch them. They are kind of cute."

Tara thought that, but I wasn't so sure. I found all those little girls in their finery, with their teeth bared in huge grins and their single-minded determination to get as much of Claudine's attention as possible slightly terrifying. I didn't really want to spend a lot of time in a room full of fairies, not if I could help it.

"I guess it's better out of the sun," I said, and we trudged inside.

"I miss much?" Tara asked me, when we'd taken our seats on the hard plastic chairs along the wall. She'd missed a few classes recently, repeatedly saying she was a little under the weather. "Aside from your little accident?"

"Oh. My face? Cupboard door in the kitchen." I half-expected Tara to press me for more details, but she didn't. Instead she stared off into the distance. I tried to do the same, and that was when I realised that we were staring into the distance, we were actually staring at someone's baby as it sat in one of those baby car seats you could pick up and move around. It wasn't the most interesting thing we could be looking at, as far as I was concerned.

As I was contemplating finding something else to fix my attention on, Tara suddenly turned to me and grabbed my arm. "Sookie," she hissed. "I got something to tell you."

"Oh, OK."

Tara gave me a significant look. "But you can't tell anyone else."

And there I was thinking I was the one with the all the secrets. I felt like I didn't need to be the recipient of any more.

But Tara took my silence for an indication she should continue on. "I'm pregnant," she whispered, and it took me a moment to work out exactly what it was she had said, and then another moment to work out what my response should be. Tara didn't sound that thrilled.

"I'm so happy for you and JB." I hoped that was right.

Tara shrugged. "He's thrilled, of course. He wants to be a dad real bad." She sighed and went back to looking at the baby. It was playing with its feet.

"And you're…not?" I ventured quietly, wary that I was treading on dangerous ground. Pregnancies, at least, the ones I'd witnessed, were supposed to be announced with the same kind of joy that flashing a diamond ring on your finger conjured up. Sure, your life would change, but wasn't this what every woman wanted?

"I tell you, Sookie. I've been struggling with it. Just a little." Tara sounded off-hand, but she kept looking straight ahead, and there was a slight wobble to her voice. She sighed, noisily, and looked down at her lap. "We didn't exactly plan it, and things are gonna be real tight. Real tight. Babies are expensive little critters."

I couldn't, in good conscience, refute that statement. I didn't envy Tara her financial worries and the additional stress they were giving her. I decided to try another tack. "Listen, I've known you and JB a long time, Tara. I think you'll be great parents. I think that counts for a lot. More than what you can buy, anyway."

Tara looked at me, with big, bright, shiny eyes. "What if…what if I'm not, Sookie? I mean, JB'll be great, I just know he will. I've seen him with his niece and nephew and he adores them. But I just…well, you remember my parents."

Oh. Tara's parents had been known around the parish for reasons that no one wants their parents to be known. They were often publicly drunk and blatantly abusive and no one blamed Tara on those nights she just didn't want to go home and deal with it.

"I think the fact that you care about whether you are or not says a lot about the kind of mother you are, Tara."

"What if I can't overcome it? What if it's something inbuilt, in me?"

"Then JB'll help you. I'll help you. Tara, you're not doing this alone."

Tara shrugged. "I guess not. But it's hard to imagine. Being a mom. Being someone's mom."

"I can't imagine it at all," I confessed. It just wasn't something on my agenda right then. Certainly not when I was alone. If I ever had kids I wanted to know that I wasn't going to be doing it all by myself.

"No. I guess not. But your day will come." Tara patted my hand, looking a little more confident now that she was comforting me that I wasn't going to end up an old spinster, surrounded by cats eating out of sardine cans.

"I waited three months," she said suddenly. "I waited three months to tell anyone, in case it didn't take. I wasn't sure that I wanted it to."

"And now?"

"Now I'm terrified something might go wrong." She blinked, rapidly, several times.

"I wish you all the luck in the world, Tara." I meant it, and I also felt a little bit sad. This was a big thing in Tara's life, but she was heading in a direction where I just couldn't follow her.

"Thanks, Sookie. That means a lot to me. And, of course, you get to be courtesy aunt to the little one." Tara fixed me with her best 'I'm putting on my brave face now' smile.

"I would expect nothing less," I replied.

We watched Claudine dismiss her fairies in silence, and then, as the gaggle of small girls and attending adults exited the studio, Amelia burst through the door. She couldn't get very far, though. The stream of exiting children held her in place and she pulled a face at me as she waited for the way to be free.

"People need to stop having children, if they're just going to keep getting in my way like that," was her announcement upon reaching Tara and myself.

I guess she had no way of knowing how close to the bone that statement was going to be as far as Tara was concerned. She visibly bristled, but Amelia didn't seem to notice.

"Hey, you banged your face," she told me.

"Yeah. Cupboard." I was going for brevity.

"Bummer." At least Amelia didn't press for any details.

Claudine called us all to join the class and we took our places on the floor. It was a little crowded in here, the class was getting popular.

We went through our warm-ups and through our basic routines, the floor one, the chair one, the one with all the stalking and wiggling and a couple of body-rolls. And then it was on to the dance where we used our props. Claudine got out her box of props for people to use and Amelia and Tara went up and selected a feather boa and a hat respectively.

I went back to the chair where I'd left my purse and pulled out Aunt Edwina's Spanish shawl.

"Oh, Sookie. That is lovely," Amelia whispered to me, when I got back to my place on the floor.

"Thank you. I borrowed it."

"From who?" Tara asked, reaching over to finger the fringing.

"Bill," I confessed, and Tara raised her eyebrows. "We're friends."

"Sure you are, Sookie." She didn't make a very good job of sounding like she actually believed me.

"I thought Bill was your ex and you were glad you broke up with him?" Amelia asked, wrinkling her nose.

"Well, that's true," I conceded.

"So, he's still giving you gifts? He must really like you."

"I borrowed it. I think it's an heirloom…or something. I mean, I have to give it back." Amelia and Tara were sure making me re-think my decision on the shawl. Had Bill lent it to me in the hope of it meaning something more?

Tara frowned. "Sookie, I think when men give you access to their family heirlooms, it's not because they want to be neighbourly."

"Crap." I really did like the shawl.

"But, it suits you. So keep it for now and let him down gently later on." Amelia shrugged and gave her feather boa an experimental twirl.

"The problem with Bill is that you let him down, and he just bounces right back up again," Tara told her and they both giggled. Well, at least they were having a good time.

And I had a better time once I started dancing, even though I still had some of the twinges and aches as a result of the previous night's adventure. It took a little while to get the hang of figuring out what to do with the shawl, it was a lot bigger than any of the other props I'd used up until now. When I wasn't twirling the shawl and shimmying my way around the dance floor, I noticed that Tara's movements were a little slow and awkward and a couple of times she just plain gave up and stood around catching her breath. I guess she was going to have to get used to that.

At the end of the class Tara scuttled back to her car as quick as she could and Amelia left as well, talking vaguely about making sure she called her dad and got her fan sent up. Claudine came over to talk to me.

"That's a very beautiful shawl, Sookie," she said, and then she eyed my cheek, which made me feel very self-conscious. She reached up and stroked the bruise, gently. "That looks painful."

"Oh. Oh, it was nothing. Just a run-in with a cupboard I should have remembered to shut."

"Well. I'm glad it wasn't any worse." Claudine turned and picked up her box of props, but as she walked off, a hat fell down. I reached down to pick it up and followed Claudine into the back room with it.

Claudine sighed as she put the box on a shelf and then turned to take the hat from me and add it to the other props in the box.

"At least the class is getting popular," I said to her. "That's a good thing, right?"

Claudine turned to me with a bright smile on her face. "It is, Sookie. I'm very pleased"

"Well, you're a very good teacher."

"And you're a good student."

"Thank you, Claudine."

Claudine started to walk back out of the office, and I followed, watching her lock it behind us. "Well, I better head off," I said.

"Um…Sookie?"

"Yes."

"Can I ask you a favour?"

"Oh. Sure." There seemed to be a theme to my day.

"Well, it's a little embarrassing. But could you stay? Just for a while? "

"Stay?"

"Wait with me. My brother's coming to collect me."

"Oh." Claudine didn't look like the sort of person who couldn't leave her house without an escort, but I didn't like to judge. "Sure, I could."

"I know it seems a little silly," Claudine did an exaggerated eye-roll. "But I just…well, I've had the feeling someone's following me."

"Following you?"

"Yes. Just…it's probably nothing. But I don't want to take any chances." She eyed my cheek and pressed her lips together.

"Oh. This wasn't…" I wondered what I could say. This wasn't a couple of guys lying in wait for me to leave work might have reassured Claudine, but it wouldn't have been the truth. Maybe none of us were that safe. "I'm fine," I said in the end.

"I'm glad."

"So…you've seen someone? Just watching you?"

"Well. Only after work. I have another job," she said conspiratorially. "I'm sure there's been someone there."

"Where do you work?"

"Oh. Ah, Dillard's. Dillard's in Monroe. I'm a…personal shopper." Dillard's was a store I had very rarely ventured into growing up and I was impressed even if Claudine didn't sound all that pleased about it.

She sighed. "My brother's not thrilled about coming here tonight, he said that no one would try anything and they'd be seen from that 7-Eleven across the road, but I don't know. I made him. Family should stick together."

I wondered if Jason would do the same for me. "That kind of brother, huh?" I said, a little ruefully. I could sympathise.

"Yep," Claudine agreed. "Also the kind that steals boyfriends, hogs the bathroom and tells you you're too fat to wear white jeans." OK, so I didn't have one of those brothers, but I smiled anyway.

Claudine did the last of the clearing away, and I helped by stacking some chairs and trying to make myself busy. When that was done there was nothing left to do but wait.

"So, how long have you been dancing?" I asked Claudine.

"Oh. Forever. I started very young. My mother liked it, so she signed us up for lessons."

"We?"

"Me and Claude. That's my brother. My twin. We were dance partners."

"Like on _Dancing with the Stars_?" It wasn't my favourite show, but I'd seen it off and on.

"Yes. Like that. We used to compete, but Claude only liked it when we won, and we didn't always win. So he quit and I tried out some other kinds of dancing on my own, and then I went to New York. I wanted to dance on stage there."

"Did you?"

"Not as much as I wanted. It wasn't a success. I came back home." Claudine sounded a little dejected at that.

"And now you have a successful dance studio."

"And now I have a business I hope will be successful. And there's Claude."

A car had pulled into the parking lot, and Claudine and I went out, locking the front door behind us, and around to where the car was parked. By the time we reached it, Claude had gotten out of the car and was leaning against the driver's door, looking bored.

He was the most beautiful man I think I'd ever seen. He was a little taller than Claudine, and shared her dark, wavy hair, but his face was decidedly more masculine. He turned his gaze on me as Claudine and I walked towards him, looked me up and down and then looked away with an air of indifference.

Or maybe it was actual indifference, because when Claudine introduced us, he barely met my eyes. "Great. Let's go. I have somewhere I need to be." His rudeness sure did cancel out the effect of his pretty face.

"OK. Thanks, Sookie. I'll see you next week." Claudine gave me a smile and she climbed into the car.

"Bye, Claudine. Nice to meet you, Claude!" Claudine waved out the window and Claude drove on past me, slightly too close for comfort.

I got into my car and I was about to start the engine, when I saw the bill I still had to deliver to Eric sitting on the passenger seat and I was suddenly gripped the idea that I should go and see him. I didn't want to be like Tara, bottling up my secrets, or like Claudine, afraid something bad was going to happen if I walked out the door. And, if I delved right down into my heart, I didn't want to be Bill, either, shut up alone in my house forever. I had friends, and, if those friends were in trouble, then it was my duty to help them out.

I'd go and see Eric, and I'd tell him what those men had said, and then it was his problem to deal with and I had done my part and given my message and I could rest assured that no one else would be hurt because I kept quiet.

So I drove out to the Roadhouse and parked around the back with the employee's cars. Eric's Corvette had pride of place, in the only spot that got any benefit from the security lights, and I walked past it and let myself in the door to the corridor.

And then I marched right on up to Eric's office and knocked on the door. For a moment, I wanted to run away. I half-hoped that he might not answer, and I could sneak out again without anyone knowing I'd been there, but instead his voice said "Enter," and there wasn't any way I could back out.

I pushed the door open and Eric looked up from the laptop he was using instead of his broken computer. "Oh. It's you."

For some reason that wasn't the response I'd been expecting. We might not have parted on the best terms the previous night, but I'd been willing to chalk that up to the stress of the situation and move on. Eric, however, seemed to be holding a grudge. I felt unsure all of a sudden and I said the first thing that popped into my head. "Yeah. I, uh, well Bill wanted me to pass this along." I handed over the invoice and Eric took it, looked at it, and tossed it on top of the pile of papers on the desk.

"So you came out here on your night off just to deliver Bill's paperwork?" Eric sounded a little angry.

"No. No, he said it'd be fine if I just brought it tomorrow night when I came to work." I shrugged. "I just brought it tonight is all. I came to say...well, firstly, thank you for getting my car back to me." Eric might have sounded less than thrilled to see me, but I still had manners. He'd helped me out, and I could be grateful.

"Oh, well. I didn't want you stranded."

"Because I live in the middle of the nowhere?" I knew Eric had been all kinds of judgemental about my house, and, mostly, my driveway.

"Because I didn't want you to be inconvenienced."

That ground the conversation to a halt for a bit, so I figured I should get on to what I really came here for. "Look, Eric. We need to talk about last night."

"Why? What's happened?"

"Nothing. I mean, not since. But I remembered something."

I couldn't tell if Eric looked curious or worried, or maybe a little of both. "What?"

"They…well, one of them…he said to tell him. Tell him next time it's a customer. That means you, right? They wanted me to tell you? They're going to hurt a customer."

Eric sat back in his chair and closed his eyes and then pinched the bridge of his nose, like he was staving off a headache. "I know," I said. "We won't be able to hush that up. And what if it's someone like Jane? Or Sid Matt Lancaster? Someone they could really hurt? We have to tell someone."

Eric opened his eyes again. "No."

"No? But…no?"

"No. It doesn't change things, Sookie. And it's probably an idle threat anyway." Eric sounded quite off-hand about it now. "I doubt they'll be back. They were just trying to talk themselves up."

"Because as long as they only mug a waitress it doesn't really matter?"

"Because we have nothing to say it wasn't just a one-off. You yourself said it last night, Sookie. This is just a bar in Louisiana. We're not exactly a target for an orchestrated campaign of terror."

"No. I guess not." I felt somewhat deflated now. I'd come here, buoyed up by the drama of being able to share my very important knowledge and now I realised I'd just wasted my time. There probably wasn't anything sinister going on, just a couple of guys trying to scare me. "I just didn't want anyone else to get hurt," I said, trying to explain my actions. "Another waitress, or a customer, or…well. You."

"You think I might get hurt?" Eric asked.

"I don't know." Now it all seemed very silly and I felt like I'd raced here for no good reason at all. "Well, I guess I'll see you tomorrow." I started to turn away, ready to leave, but Eric stood up and stopped me by grabbing my face in one hand and running his thumb down the bruised cheekbone. He leaned down and peered at my injury.

"It doesn't look so bad," he said.

"Yeah. I guess we got the ice to it quick enough."

"I am sorry you were hurt," he said.

I was going to give him my stock-standard answer that I was fine, but I never got a chance. Instead, Eric leaned in further and kissed me.

**Thanks for reading!**


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N Well I worked my little fingers to the bone to get this one out! Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: Not mine.**

It was quite a kiss. For a while there, I had an almost out-of-body experience, as I viewed what was happening as though it was happening to someone else. I noted that Eric was being a lot gentler than I thought he might be, perhaps because of my bruised face. No, wait. Now he was a little more insistent, his tongue dipping inside my mouth and exploring while his hand had moved around to grip the back of my head, as though he was worried I might pull away from him.

His other hand was on the small of my back meaning that there wasn't much room between our bodies. Nope. Now there was none at all. I'd closed the gap and, in the process, I'd gripped his arms. Maybe I was going to push him away? That seemed like the sensible idea, right?

Turns out I wasn't. Turns out I was enjoying myself just a little too much. Turns out that I was interested in what Eric's butt felt like because one of my hands had gone around to his back and was now wandering south.

I decided I couldn't be a dispassionate observer of my own life any longer and I needed to take some action. I needed to push him away.

But, before I could put that thought into action, someone else put a stop to what was going on. The office door, which I'd closed behind me, burst open and Dawn's voice said "Before I go on my break, Long Shadow said to tell you…" Then she stopped talking and, I think, left the room.

That had been enough to break the spell, though. I pulled back and pushed Eric away, trying not to see the hurt in his eyes.

I half-expected him to protest, but he didn't. He just dropped his arms and kept watching me, like he was waiting for me to make the first move.

Well, it was nice of him to do that _now_.

"Look," I said, trying to figure out what to tell him. "I can't pretend that you were the only one participating in that, Eric. I'm not going to go and cry foul. But it was neither the time, nor the place, and it won't happen again." I didn't wait for his reply; I just walked out of the office.

A part of me wondered if Eric might follow me, and I was shaking slightly with the anticipation of another confrontation, but he didn't. I made it all the way back out into the parking lot completely unmolested.

Of course, that was where Dawn had run to. She was standing right beside the door, and, as I closed it, our eyes met. There was really no way I could pretend I hadn't seen her, but would she just prefer it if I walked on past her?

I hesitated, and Dawn sighed loudly. "I didn't think you'd be leavin' so soon, Sookie."

"I just…I have things to do." Maybe if I didn't refer to the fact Dawn had seen me kissing Eric, we could all pretend it hadn't happened?

Oh, who was I kidding? Dawn was probably hating on me for taking her place, and feeling sorry for me that I had. This little encounter gave her the perfect opportunity to chew me out on both counts.

I waited for a moment or two, to see if she'd say something. She did.

"What? You want some congratulations, Sookie?" she sneered. "Think you finally snagged him and we should all kiss your damn feet?"

"I haven't. I did something stupid, I'll admit that, and I…" I stopped as Dawn leaned in closer to peer at my face.

"Bet Eric was real sympathetic about that," she said. She made it sound a little like it was something I'd planned, turning up here injured so my boss would take pity on me, and then fall prey to my sexual wiles. Did people really do that? Did it really work? I didn't know.

I shrugged, feigning nonchalance. "I knocked my face on a cupboard. I don't know if Eric really noticed."

"Oh, I'm sure he noticed, Sookie. Like everything else he _notices_ about you." Dawn turned away from me and stared out at the parking lot.

I watched her profile and decided to just lay it all out there and clear the air. "Dawn, I know you're probably not going to believe me, but it sure doesn't make me feel all that special, him treating me the way he's treated others. Like he treated you, I guess. "

Dawn turned sharply to look at me again. "Like me? Well he sure as hell didn't ever kiss me." She frowned at me, and I felt like a kid who'd got the answer wrong in class. Again. There was something here I wasn't getting.

"But…you and Eric?"

"Me and Eric what? I wasn't throwing myself at the boss like you were just five minutes ago." She spat those words at me and they hurt. Mostly because there wasn't much I could say to defend myself against them.

"You and Eric…and all those trips into his office. After work. And then you'd be all happy and look like a…well, like you'd…you know…lucked out, or something." My speech was not eloquent and I realised, as I stumbled over my words, that what I was saying, what I had assumed was going on, might not be the truth of the matter.

My heart sank.

Dawn looked at me coolly. "You really think I'm that much of a whore, Sookie?"

I didn't know how to answer that question. Not without digging a deeper hole to just stumble on into, anyway.

"You sure seemed like you were spending an awful lot of time together," I said. Lamely.

"Well, you know, I do work for Eric, Sookie. Perhaps you missed out on noticing that while you've been chatting to Lafayette and mooning over your boss. Honest to God, I thought you had more self-respect than that."

"I did! I do! We're just friends is all. I have no intention of it ever being anything more."

"Well. That seems a little odd, if I may say so. Eric doesn't strike me as the kind of guy wants his waitresses for his friends, but I'll believe you, sure. However I would advise you keep to that intention of yours. No good comes from these sorts of relationships." Dawn nodded wisely.

I stood there for a moment, hoping she'd say more, and, when she didn't, I decided to go for broke and ask anyway. "So, all that time you were popping in and out of his office, you really weren't being friendly? Not, you know, like having an affair friendly, but even friends? You were always so cheerful when you went waltzing on in there."

Dawn looked down at her feet. "Well, no point being a sourpuss, is there? But no, we weren't real friends…as such. But I was helping him out with something." She looked at me quickly. "Something I can't say anything about, and, I don't know, it was nice. He was the only boss I've ever had thought I could be more than just what he paid me for. Only I didn't do it right, seems like. And you came along and he liked you better anyways."

Well this was a revelation. "I'm sorry I misjudged you, Dawn," I said.

Dawn looked a little uncomfortable. "Oh, all right, Sookie! There was a part of me that, _maybe_, thought it'd be nice if Eric liked me…like that. Maybe I played up to it a little, OK? He's sure nice-looking and all and I thought it might make Jason a little jealous."

"Jason?"

"Yeah. Like you might tell him I had this guy now and he'd come and apologise to me for being such an asshole and we'd be square again. But I see he's taken up with Amy. No good'll come of that, I tell you."

"Oh." Truth be told it had never crossed my mind to discuss Dawn with Jason, and he'd certainly never asked about her. I felt a little sorry for her; Jason clearly lived larger in her mind than she did in his.

Was I doing the same thing with Eric? Seeing potential rivals where there were none because I was so caught up in having him for myself?

I liked to think that wasn't the case, but my actions earlier in the evening belied a truth I wasn't sure I was ready to face up to. I did like him. I liked him in a way that wasn't just about being friends.

And I was going to have to figure out what to do about that all on my own.

"Well, goodnight Dawn. Hope the rest of the night isn't too busy for you."

"Yeah. See you tomorrow, Sookie."

I started walking to my car, and I heard Dawn punching the numbers into the keypad by the door. I turned back to her. "Hey, Dawn?" She looked up at me.

"Say, uh…when you-all are leaving tonight, you just be careful, you hear? You, uh…maybe all leave together, or something? You and Ginger."

"What are you talking about, Sookie?"

"It's just I got this friend, and she thinks she's being followed…and I was thinking that there sure isn't much light out here in the parking lot…so, you know. Better safe than sorry. Us waitresses gotta stick together, after all."

"Well. OK. I'll…we'll take care." Dawn sounded sceptical, and went back into the building before I could reiterate my warning, but I felt like I'd done something good. At least they'd think about being safe. I hoped so, anyway.

And maybe that good thing would cancel out the stupid thing I'd done earlier.

I drove home and let myself into my house. I should, by rights, have made some dinner, but it was now late and I just plain didn't feel like eating. My mind was a squirrely mess of worries.

Only now I wasn't sure what I should be more worried about; strange men jumping me in a parking lot, or me jumping Eric in his office.

I watched a little TV and, when I couldn't concentrate on the show and had no hope of ever working out who the killer was even though they'd probably telegraphed it quite clearly right at the start of the episode, I gave up and went to bed.

I suspected I'd have trouble falling asleep. But I didn't. I slept soundly right through to the next morning.

When I woke up it was bright and sunny and I felt a little better. I could start afresh, couldn't I? I could wipe my slate clean and just go back to being another waitress at the Roadhouse.

The first thing I noticed when I walked into the bar that evening was the large television set taking pride of place on the wall. Lafayette had come out from the kitchen and noticed me staring at it. "Looks like Long Shadow's got some competition for everyone's attention now, don't he?" he commented.

"I ain't refereeing who gets to watch what," Long Shadow grumbled, looking up at the TV above his head. "Stupid idea if you ask me."

"So that's one more thing you ain't gonna be in charge of around here?" Lafayette asked. Long Shadow ignored him, and he continued on anyway. "I just hope himself ain't comin' out every time someone wants the remote." Lafayette turned to look at me. He scanned my face and then said "I hate to criticise anyone else's work, but, Sookie honey, you need a better base if you're going to cover up something like that."

I had almost forgotten about the bruise on my cheek. "Oh. Yeah. Well, it was an accident. I had a bad day."

"Mmm-hmm. We all have those kinds of days, I know. But you get yourself to a cosmetics counter the next time, and you get something that covers all your sins." With that he walked off and I was left with Long Shadow staring at me curiously.

"It was a cupboard," I informed him.

He shrugged. "Make no difference to me how you did it. Long as you can still serve drinks."

I was about to go and start my prep work when Ginger hustled over. "Hi," I said, glad to see a friendly face. Only Ginger looked worried, not friendly. She was frowning. I wondered if Dawn had told her what she'd seen the previous night and if I was about to get a lecture on fooling around at work.

"Listen," she said. "I'm not gonna pry…" I braced myself, wondering whether she wanted to know the sordid details of my office affair, or simply wanted me to give her the inside scoop on whether we could get a raise out of Eric, but instead she said "But if and when you want out, I'll help you."

Colour me confused. "I'm sorry, what?"

Ginger pressed her lips together. "I mean, I don't want to know the details…" I breathed a sigh of relief over that. "But it don't look good, and I just want you to know you got friends, Sookie." She looked at me, no, she looked at my cheek and the bruise it was sporting. Oh.

My hand flew to my face, as though covering it up might make Ginger think she hadn't seen it there. "Oh. No. I, um, I walked into a cupboard door. I should have shut it, of course. But I'm fine. No real harm done." I gave Ginger a smile to let her know I really was OK.

"Yeah. I know, Sookie. A cupboard, right. Well, I ain't gonna tell you how to live your life. But let me just say this…" Ginger held my gaze. "They don't get better, they just get meaner. I know, I been there. So you want out, I'll help you. Even if I got to come and get you myself. And that's all I got to say."

She turned, and started to walk off but I was so touched by what she'd said that I grabbed her in a hug. "Thanks," I whispered.

"Oh. Oh, now. I'm sure you'd do the same for any of us, Sookie. I just….yeah. You let me know. "

I released her, and she swiped at her eyes, before walking off, swinging her tray purposefully. I set about getting my area ready for the night's customers. Customer number one was Jane Bodehouse.

"Hey, Jane. Do you like the new TV?" I asked when I went to place an order with Long Shadow.

"TV?" She looked up from her drink. "Oh. Yeah. A flat one. I got one of those." She looked at me. "Say, that musta been some party, Sookie."

"'Scuse me?"

"Your face. You remember what happened? I never could. This one time, we had a big shindig and I woke up at the kitchen table and the place was just a mess, like you'd never seen. I had a black eye and so did Marvin Snr. Never did find out who started that fight, or how the toaster got broke. I tell you, Sookie, we was wild when we'd had a few, but that's what it's like, isn't it? When you really love someone? There's ups and there's downs, but there's always…passion."

Was it? That didn't sound much like love to me, but Jane was now sitting there with a smile on her face and a faraway look in her eyes and I could bet that she was thinking about all the other times she'd drunk and fought with her late husband. Maybe time, or the drink, had made those occasions seem better than they had been.

I realised there was nothing like sporting a bruised face to help you find out how the other people in your town lived.

"'Course sometimes the drink made him a little nasty," Jane confessed. "Rest of the time he was sweet as pie, but sometimes…" She stopped and looked up at the TV, as though noticing it for the first time. "Say, you think we could watch _Jeopardy!_?"

"I'm sure we could, Jane. You just tell Long Shadow what you want to watch."

"I ain't…" Long Shadow said, but I didn't bother sticking around to hear the rest of his protest. He was going to get Jane the show she wanted to watch and he could damn well like it.

About a half hour later, Jason showed up and took up his usual place in my section, looking at me pointedly. I went over to him and watched as he scanned my face.

"Someone hit you, Sook?" Jason didn't sound particularly worried, just curious.

"No. I hit the cupboard door in the kitchen."

"Oh. You shoulda been more careful. Hey, can I get a pitcher here? Hoyt's on his way…I think. I'll just text him." Jason stopped looking at me, and pulled his phone out of his pocket.

I was about to walk to the bar to place the order, when I noticed that Dawn was looking over at the back of Jason's head. "Say, uh, Jason? You should stop by and say hello to Dawn sometime when you come in here."

Jason looked up. "Why?"

"Well. You used to be tight with her. I mean, just because you ain't dating, doesn't mean you have cut her out of her life altogether."

Jason screwed up his face. "Oh, now. We ain't like you and Bill. We ain't gettin' back together. And, you know, I'd be too scared to. I screw that up again Dawn'll rip my nuts off." He gave a little laugh, as though the thought of breaking Dawn's heart was slightly funny.

"Well, I'm not getting back together with Bill!"

"Really, Sook? Who else you goin' take up with round here?" Jason sounded genuinely confused.

"I…just…no one." I didn't know what to say to that. I couldn't mention Eric, because that wasn't ever going to happen, and I wasn't sure what made me feel worse, the fact that I couldn't think of anyone else I wanted to date, or the fact that Jason just assumed I'd eventually have to settle for whoever would take me.

"Yeah. See. You're keeping your options open. That's smart, because Bill, he'd look after you. Then you can sell Gran's place and move into somewhere nicer."

"Jesus Christ, Jason! You don't pick your life-partner based on the size of their house!" Sometimes it was hard to believe we'd been brought up in the same family.

Jason eyed me with a certain amount of disdain. "Don't ya? I thought that's why you liked Bill." He shrugged. "Oh well, maybe some guy'll come in here who's better. Or you might be able to snag that boss you got? He must be doing quite well, I guess. That'd be even better if you didn't have to work."

"The point of me working is not to find a husband. The point of me working is to be able to pay my bills."

There was, however, no getting through to Jason. He looked at me, like he doubted every word I'd said but was too polite to say that, and then went back to pushing buttons on his phone. "Just be nice to Dawn," I muttered as I left him.

"I'm nice to everybody, Sookie. It's you who's in the bad mood. And you're the one getting paid to be nice to customers."

I took a deep breath and didn't reply to that, lest that be used as proof of my bad mood. And then tied in to my menstrual cycle.

Instead I went to the bar and passed over the slip where I'd written Jason's order to Long Shadow, walking off again before he could start a conversation.

Truth be told, I was in a bad mood. Maybe not a real bad one, but I was certainly a little on edge. If I was really truthful I'd have to admit that it was because I was waiting for Eric to make an appearance in the bar area and I was torn between wanting to see him and hoping he'd stay away. I felt drained by the mental flip-flopping I was doing every time I heard someone open the door that led out back.

The bar wasn't all that busy, and I wished that I had more work to do to take my mind off of Eric. Of course I might have once fronted up to his office and offered to help him when it was quiet like this, but that didn't feel appropriate right at this point in time. Sure, Dawn might have confessed that her nightly visits back there were truly for something related to the job and not just to satisfy the urges of her employer, but I would have still felt like I was offering myself up on a platter for Eric's consumption because of what had transpired the night before.

I sighed, loudly, as I wiped down a table that no one had sat at all evening. This was all starting to make my relationship with Bill look mighty straightforward in comparison.

I was happy to see Kevin Pryor and Kenya Jones arrive and I directed them to go and sit in my section, mostly by shadowing them from the time they walked in the door to when they felt compelled to sit down and let me serve them.

"What can I get you both tonight?" I asked. "House special is meatloaf, and Lafayette's added a little kick to it, I'm told. I'm looking forward to having some later when I get a break, but if you have some now you can let me know if it's as good as I hope." I realised I was rambling a little. I hoped I didn't start scaring the customers off. I needed them, not just for the promise of earning some tips, but for the distraction from my own thoughts.

"Oh, uh…I think just a drink for now, Sookie," Kevin said, glancing at Kenya, who nodded in agreement.

"Oh. Right. So you'll have…?"

"Two beers. Bottled." I nodded at Kevin and took my leave.

On my way to the bar, Jason waved me down. "Hey, Sook. Like the big-ass TV, think we could get something better on?"

"Oh…I don't know, Jason." I glanced over and saw that Jane was now clutching the remote and watching what appeared to be one of those home improvement shows where the person came home and was surprised to find their friends and neighbours had re-papered the living room. "I think Jane's watching something."

Jason pulled a face. "But surely it's there for sports, Sookie, not for watching people painting their shit?"

"It's for customers, Jason. Customers who bother to tip their waitresses." I carried on my way to the bar to get Kevin and Kenya their drinks.

On my way back to their table I was waylaid again, but this time by Hoyt Fortenberry. "Hey, Sookie," he said, and I hoped he hadn't been sent by Jason to get me to change the station on his behalf.

"Hey, Hoyt. You having a good night?"

"Yeah. Yes, I am. Say, uh…what happened to your face?"

I was touched by everyone's concern, but getting just a little tired of explaining myself. Especially when I had to keep trotting out a story that wasn't even true. But it wouldn't have been any better if the real story had got around. Then I would simply have been the object of everyone's curiosity and pity, and forced to repeat my story again and again for their entertainment. I'd seen it happen many times before, everything from Maxine Fortenberry's fender bender in the Wal-Mart parking lot to Charlsie Tooten's fall on the broken steps out the front of the Baptist Church had been dragged out at every opportunity, while the victim recounted their tale of woe and the audience gasped and tutted at all the right places and then admired the resulting injuries. I sighed. There didn't seem to be much I could do to stop it happening.

"I'm fine. I just walked into a cupboard door."

"Did you?" Hoyt looked puzzled. "That doesn't seem like a very Sookie-like thing to do."

I hadn't known that Hoyt's world was organised into things that were and weren't Sookie-like. I was simultaneously touched and slightly creeped out by that knowledge.

"No. Well, I guess it wasn't. But I'm OK."

"Oh, I'm sure. I mean…I just thought someone hit you."

"Nope. Just a cupboard."

Hoyt looked a little embarrassed and a slight blush crept across his cheeks. "It ain't, uh…it wasn't that Bill Compton you were stepping out with a while back?"

"Oh. No, Hoyt. It wasn't him." I was feeling a little embarrassed now, but I forced myself to stay pleasant and not give Hoyt the idea that asking these questions was wrong. From the snippets I'd been gathering from some of the other people around here, it was probably a good thing if a few questions got asked from time to time.

"OK. Yeah…I just…" Hoyt stopped and frowned. And then he looked down at his feet and blushed a deeper red, before taking a big breath in and looking back up at me. "It wasn't uh…" He leaned in closer to me. "I was worried it mighta been Jason?" He gave me a questioning look while his eyes pleaded with me to say his worst fear wasn't true.

"No. It wasn't Jason. It was just a cupboard." I still didn't feel any better about lying, and the fact I was getting so comfortable with saying the words made me feel even worse, but I was glad I could allay Hoyt's fears, although I did feel awful sorry for Jason that his best friend had doubts about his character. Jason was a lot of things, but I liked to think he wasn't someone who felt entitled to use his fists whenever he felt like it.

"I don't think Jason'd ever hit me." And I liked to think that if he did, he'd only try that the once.

"Yeah. Yeah, you're right Sookie. I dunno. I just…well, I guess I wasn't thinking." Though I wouldn't have thought it was possible, Hoyt looked even more embarrassed now.

"Oh, no harm done." I hoped he knew I wasn't about to discuss his theory on my injury with Jason himself.

Hoyt rubbed the back of his neck with his hand and continued to stand there. "I better get these to their owners," I said, holding up the tray with Kevin and Kenya's beers balanced on it.

"Oh. Yeah. Right you are, Sookie! You just keep on working there; you're doing a great job!" Hoyt's voice had increased in volume, as often happens when someone is forcing themselves to sound cheerful and hearty.

I smiled at Hoyt one last time and made my way past him and over to Kevin and Kenya. They had been glancing at my injury when I took their order, but had clearly been trained by their profession to be discreet enough not to mention it.

However, they had something else to say when I delivered their beers to them. "Say, Sookie. You had any trouble here recently?"

I plastered my smile back on my face and forced my voice to stay as neutral as possible. "Trouble? What kind?"

Kenya answered my question. "Oh. Well some of our colleagues down in Monroe said they got reports of the girls who work at that strip club being followed, and they wanted us to ask around, but I said to Kevin that that wouldn't happen out here. We only got this place, and it's a different kinda place." Kenya finished up her explanation by looking around as if to confirm that, indeed, we had no strippers on the premises.

I was tempted to say that Long Shadow seemed keen to sign me up for a pole, but didn't think this was the time to be flippant.

"No, we ain't had anything like that," I said. Well, I lied. But I wasn't sure the instances were related, after all. Might be enthusiastic customers at the strip club. My admirers had been enthusiastic about other things. Like stealing my tips off me.

And it still gave me a little jolt of pleasure that they hadn't got them. Take that, you assholes I thought, and it made me feel a whole heap better about the whole thing.

I guess Gran was right and time heals all wounds. I certainly felt like I was getting some perspective on the matter now my wounds were healing and nothing else bad had happened. All I needed now was some perspective on matters with Eric.

"Well, you let us know if you do," Kevin said seriously. "We know you girls work late and I wouldn't want any of you thinking you had to put up with creepers hanging around you. You just give us a call, you hear?"

I nodded. "Sure will, Kevin."

"Your boss got some security in place?" Kenya asked.

"Ah…there's a security light out back in the parking lot…and we got Long Shadow if there's any trouble out here."

Kenya nodded this time. "Well I don't know what they have at Hooligan's, but I don't think it's sympathetic management."

"No. Well, Eric's OK." I was sure there were worse people to work for.

"OK. Good. I think you'll all be fine, Sookie." Kevin smiled at me reassuringly and I left them to their own company. Now that the questioning was over I was kind of surplus to requirements, anyway.

I wasn't sure what to do next. I checked on the other couple of customers I had and then considered prying Jason away from the bar where he'd charmed the remote right out of Jane's hand. No one seemed to be immune from Jason's charms.

Well, except maybe Hoyt. And that was a new development.

I was contemplating that fact and idly watching Jason try to extricate himself from Jane's clutches now that he'd bought her a drink and they were best friends, when I heard a very familiar voice right behind me, saying my name.

Had no one ever told him it was rude to sneak up on people?

"Hey, Bill," I said, as I turned around. He was carrying his laptop bag again and another bag of tools and balancing some computer innards as well.

"Evening, Sookie. Say, can you take me out back? I just need a spare pair of hands."

"OK. Sure, Bill."

I took a deep breath and led the way to the door at the back of the bar, stowing my tray on the way. Long Shadow eyed Bill curiously as he followed me, but he didn't comment.

"Say, how did that shawl work out for you Sookie?" Bill asked, as we walked down the corridor to Eric's office.

"Oh, great. Thanks for loaning it to me, Bill. Everyone sure did admire it. It, uh, might be a little large for my needs though."

"Well, that's a shame."

"Yeah…" We'd reached the office door and I'd lost my train of thought. Or, rather, I was thinking about things other than Aunt Edwina's Spanish shawl and it's suitability for use in a burlesque routine.

I took a deep breath and I knocked twice, firmly. Before I had an answer I called out "Eric, I got Bill out here with the new…thingee you needed."

There was a pause and I wondered for a moment if he wasn't in there at all. Maybe he hadn't come to work? I was torn between elation at the thought of postponing the inevitable confrontation and the worry that Bill would think I was a little slow, not having realised Eric had taken the night off.

But then Eric's voice called out "Enter," and I pushed the door open and held it so Bill could follow me in.

Eric looked up from his laptop screen as we entered, and his eyes flicked from me to Bill and back again. "Nice of you two to come calling," he said, in a cold voice that matched his stony expression.

Great. Just great.

"I just needed another pair of hands," Bill explained. "You can have her back now." I looked at Eric and he looked at me and I hoped I wasn't sporting the weird expression he was, the mixture of confusion and guilt that was written all over his face.

"I mean," Bill said, as he started unloading the things he was carrying, "I'm sure Sookie has more important things to do than wait on me any further."

"No, I got other people to wait on," I said, brightly. "Well, some anyways. It's a little quiet tonight." I stopped, abruptly, in case I kept on talking just to cover up how nervous I felt.

Which was silly, really. I had no reason to be nervous. I'd told Eric the night before how it had to be and he'd hardly fought me on the issue. No, this was fine. This was just me in my boss's office, showing in a…well, I wasn't sure what Bill wanted to style himself, but we could just say contractor, I guess, and then going back out to continue my night's work.

I was fine.

"OK, so I'll get back to it," I said, and I turned and started to leave the office. I heard Bill say "I'm going to be a while, and I'm going to need to use the desk," and then Eric said, "Maybe I'll go out in the bar too."

I sped up, but it didn't do me any good. Out in the corridor I could feel Eric closing in on me. I turned around.

"What?" I asked, holding out my hands, palms up, in front of me.

"I just…" Eric cocked his head to one side and considered me. "Did you see the TV?"

OK. That was not what I was expecting. "I did, Eric. You got that up real quick."

"Well I had some good advice about how it was important to draw our customers in. Make them feel like this is a home away from home."

"Good advice, huh?" I smiled despite myself, and Eric took a step towards me, closing the gap between us.

"Yes. From someone whose opinion I trust on such matter."

Oh. Dawn had been right the night before. It was downright intoxicating to be told you were valued. I cautioned myself that it might be just a line, might be something Eric was doing simply to make me trust him, but it felt good all the same.

Eric came a little closer and I inhaled deeply, breathing in his cologne. Oh. Oh, it was so tempting to step right up to him and put my arms around him. I was tired, and I was tired of having everyone ask about my bruises. I wanted to just be with someone who didn't want to know what the story was, who already knew. I wanted to be with someone I didn't have to lie to. I wanted to bury my face in the front of Eric's shirt and let myself cry it out, let him hold me up, and let him make me feel like it would be all be OK.

But I couldn't do that. I couldn't let the fact I'd had a bad scare let me fall for a man, bed a man, who just wasn't going to do me any good.

I'd been so strong up until now. And there was no reason to stop now.

"Well," I said, trying to gather my thoughts. "I think the TV's going to be a real asset." I turned away from Eric.

"Not as much of an asset as the person who suggested it," he said to my back. And I smiled, just a little. I could appreciate him, couldn't I? I could still enjoy his company, even if I wasn't throwing myself at him?

But then I walked back into the bar and all thoughts of Eric were banished for the moment when I was confronted with something that struck fear right into my heart. Arlene Fowler, Debbie Pelt and Jannalynn Hopper had come to Vic's Redneck Roadhouse and were sitting right in the middle of my section.

Well. Fuck me.

**In other news, I was very flattered to find out that the Homestay series of stories I wrote (and there are many of them), were nominated for a Fangreaders award. It's very gratifying to have the recognition from the fandom.**

**Voting is open now until the 21 April.**

**Check out the Fangreaders profile page for more details. **

**Thanks for reading!**


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N Hello! I made it back again. I always feel very sorry for those of you who sign up to follow me or my story in the breaks where nothing is being posted - you must wonder if you backed the wrong horse! So thank you all for your patience, and your continued support.**

**Disclaimer: Not mine, but, when I'm not using them, rest assured I let them out to get a little fresh air and exercise.**

I stood still in the doorway, half-hoping that they hadn't seen me. I contemplated turning around and running all the way down the corridor, out the door to the parking lot, and then just keeping on running until I hit…

Well, it didn't matter what I'd hit because I couldn't do it. Mainly because Eric was standing close to my back and he barred my exit.

Of course Eric was probably confused as to why I had stopped when I had. "I mean it, Sookie," he said. "I would…"

I never did find out what he would or wouldn't, because he was distracting me and I reached behind me and put a hand on his chest and made a little shushing noise. I needed to think clearly and I didn't need Eric distracting me.

"Sookie. I was simply trying to say…" Eric was enunciating every word clearly now, and it was quite obvious his level of annoyance was rising by the second.

"Eric, strange as it may seem, right now, I got bigger problems than you." As soon as I said that, and as if she had some kind of super-hearing, Arlene's head whipped around to look at me. "Oh, look girls! There she is!" she cried across the bar, waving her hand at me.

I think Eric turned and went back to his office at that point, probably annoyed at no longer being the most important issue in my life. I couldn't really worry about that now.

I marched across the floor towards their table, as purposefully as I could, with a big, fake smile stuck onto my face. But half-way there, I stopped as I realised I had forgotten to collect the tray and pad and pencil I'd put away before heading out the back with Bill.

I hesitated over what to do. I could press on, and make this a social visit to my old workmates, but there was no getting around the fact that tonight, I was also their waitress.

Did I really want to have to go back to that table more times than was necessary?

I decided that I didn't. So I held up one finger in the universal gesture for 'I'll be right with you' and I high-tailed it back to the bar to pick up my tray and my pad.

"Figuring to do some waitressing now, huh?" Long Shadow asked me. "'Stead of hanging out with your friends and the boss."

"Opening a door for the guy fixing the computer is hardly 'hanging out'." I was a little frazzled and really in no mood for Long Shadows remarks.

"Yeah. Sure. Who else you see going back there that often? And that guy's here for you, not a computer." He waited for a response, but he wasn't getting one from me. "But sure, you go and hang with your girlfriends now. The redhead looks fine, want to introduce me?"

"No. I do not," I muttered, steeling myself and heading over to their table. I squared my shoulders, I sucked in my stomach, and I smiled brightly. "So what brings you ladies down here tonight?"

Arlene took in a big breath and the pleasure at being able to tell me what brought them in here was written all over her face. She always did like a good story, and brevity was not her strong suit.

"Well," Arlene began, with only a brief glance to her companions to make sure they didn't mind her taking the lead on this one. "Debbie said if we were goin' to work together, in a little old office, we should get together and have a girl's night. You know, Sookie. Talk about our menfolk…well, those of us who've got 'em, which ain't me! I am sure in the market though. But anyway, Jannalynn said she'd been to where you worked now, and that it wasn't so bad, so we thought we'd try here, and we could have a catch-up at the same time!" Arlene finished with a bright smile she beamed at me and it was clearly my signal to thank the three of them for gracing me with their presence.

I held back the sigh I wanted to let out. "Oh, well. That's just…wonderful, Arlene. It'll be nice to see all of you…again." I thought back to the last time Jannalynn had been in, I might have known that would come back to haunt me.

And then I thought some more about that visit. And who she'd been here with.

"Say, Jannalynn. You got a new fella, then?" I asked, as innocently as I could.

Jannalynn rolled her eyes unattractively but didn't say anything. Arlene jumped back in to the conversation instead. "Well, you wouldn't have heard, but Jannalynn and Sam, it's just like…well love in the workplace. That's a book I read once, where two people work together for years and then he thinks she's going to leave…oh, well. Never mind! But it's good…I think I lent it to you, Sookie?" She looked at me expectantly.

I had not expected this to turn into a discussion on literature.

"Sure…I remember it a little." I turned to face Jannalynn. "So, you're _dating_ Sam now, Jannalynn?"

Jannalynn smirked at me. "Uh-huh," she said, and with that any hopes of me holding my knowledge about their affair over her head disappeared. I was disappointed and more than a little disappointed in myself for thinking I should do it in the first place.

I had sunk low if that was my plan of attack.

I just wished I knew what their plan of attack was. They made me nervous and the fact that so far Debbie hadn't said anything, but was simply sitting back and giving me a knowing look, made me doubly nervous about her.

Were they friends, or foes?

Debbie made a great show of looking around the bar. "So you're working here now, Sookie. It's not as bad as I thought it would be," she announced. "I expected a few more drunks and low-class people." She looked me up and down.

I began to appreciate the straightforward simplicity of someone just pushing you to the ground. Dancing around the potential verbal bombs I was expecting any moment was possibly more than I felt ready to deal with that night.

I reflected that my life was getting far too complicated for my liking.

"Well, Debbie. Normally the customers are a pretty good bunch. Now, can I get you-all some drinks, or a menu?"

"Both," Jannalynn said, with a sickly-sweet smile.

As I was walking towards the bar to get some menus I saw Bill coming out of the door from the back. I tried to signal, by moving my eyes to the left, that he should look over my shoulder and maybe re-think his movements, but he just frowned at me and walked on over. "I know you're working," he said, sounding a little grumpy. "I'm just here to get something to drink."

"No. That's not quite what I meant Bill…how's the computer looking?"

"I think it'll live Sookie. I just need the data to transfer over to the new hard-drive." Bill sighed, and looked, kind of longingly, I thought, at the door.

"Right. And it's not so much fun hanging out with Eric?"

"I can't say as he's my favourite person to spend time with. He's not particularly pleasant company. And he has an unrealistic idea of how long this should take. I think he's seen too many movies."

I was trying to think of a way to reply to that, when I heard Arlene call out "Hey, Bill!" and Bill's head snapped to the side. "Why is she here?" he asked, as he lifted one hand to acknowledge Arlene's greeting.

"It's a bar. People drop in from time to time."

Bill gave me a look that suggested this was nothing to joke about. "I guess I'll take my drink back out to the office," he said.

"That's probably wise."

Bill sighed one more time, before he went to give Long Shadow his order. I went back to face the music.

"So you and Bill get back together?" Arlene asked me, as I handed out the menus.

"Nope."

"Well, that's a real shame Sookie. He always seemed so nice. You could do real well for yourself with him. I guess you just had to stick with it." She smiled at me, but I felt like I'd just been told off for not doing enough to keep my man happy.

Even though Bill wasn't my man. Even though I didn't want him to be anymore.

"Well, we can't all be happy like Debbie and Alcide," I said.

"Have you seen her ring?" Arlene half-shrieked at me. "It's enormous, Sookie! Alcide sure knows how to treat a girl."

"Well, I'm certainly doing better than poor Sookie over there," Debbie said, nodding at me. Oh yeah. My damned bruised cheek again.

"She's probably got some big biker boyfriend who didn't like her back-chat," Jannalynn said. She sounded as though she liked the idea of that. And then she caught the way I was looking at her. "Or not. I was only joking, Sookie! We all know you ain't got no one." She looked down and started studying the menu intently.

"I sure know how that feels!" Arlene said, loudly. "Say, Sookie what's that bartender over there like?"

While a part of me wasn't adverse to the idea of pairing Arlene up with Long Shadow, I couldn't in good conscience do that. "Men," I said.

"Really? The big, blond one? He don't look like one of them gays," Arlene replied, leaning over in her seat to get a better look. I turned around and, sure enough, at the bar Eric was talking to Long Shadow. Well, no he wasn't. He was looking at me and ignoring Jane's attempts at conversation. Poor Jane, Bill hadn't stuck around out here to keep her company either.

"Oh. No. That's, um…that's Eric," I said, turning back to the assembled women and feeling a little flustered. For no good reason at all.

"And Eric likes men?" Debbie asked, raising her eyebrows.

"Eric owns the place. I don't know what he likes," I mumbled. I needed to get this back on track. "Anyway, the special tonight is, um…" I paused. I had known what the special was five minutes earlier. I just needed to get my brain to focus.

I tried again. "The special tonight is chilli with cornbread."

"I think that Eric's pretty special, I'll take him served up!" Arlene said, loudly. And rudely.

"I don't think that's a dish Sookie wants to share," Debbie murmured, and Arlene cackled. Jannalynn joined in, watching me the whole time for my reaction.

Well, screw them. I wasn't going to react.

"Can I take your orders now, or would you like another moment?" I asked, as pleasantly and as coolly as I could.

"I think," Jannalynn began. "That you can take drink orders now, and come back for the food ones?" She looked around the table and the other two nodded. "That way, you can earn your tip!"

"Oh Jannalynn!" Arlene said. "She's just joking, Sookie. Ain't you Jannalynn?" Arlene didn't sound all that sure of it, and Jannalynn just shrugged. "We know you're working hard and it ain't your fault you're havin' to do this."

"No. It's not." I looked directly at Debbie when I said that, but she didn't have the decency to even flinch.

"It's a harsh economic climate these days, Sookie," Debbie said. "We've all got to do what we can." I didn't have much doubt about what she was doing to get by, but fine, if she wanted to saddle herself with an asshole of a husband, she was welcome to him.

"OK, so I'll take those drink orders," I said, trying to keep the sound of resignation out of my voice. I wrote them down on my pad and took them over to Long Shadow, who was now alone again. "They a bachelorette party?" he asked.

"No. And don't go thinking they'll all be easy to pick up."

"Too late, anyway," he said, as he took the glass Jane was waving at him out of her hand. When I looked around Jason was standing beside Arlene talking to her. Well, that was great.

I carried the drinks back to the table. "Hey Sookie, look, you brother's here!" Arlene was hanging onto Jason's arm so tightly I worried a little about his circulation.

"Oh, yeah. I saw that earlier. When I brought him a beer." I started to set the drinks down on the table.

"Yeah. I need another one when you can, Sook." He patted me on the arm like he was doing me a favour.

"Well, it's nice you could drop by, Jason," Arlene said.

"Yeah. I figured I should support Sookie now she's workin' down here." Jason smiled broadly at his audience who lapped up his every word. "Well, I better get back to Hoyt, he's lookin' kinda lonely."

Arlene managed to remove her hand from Jason's arm and he nodded at the table. "You enjoy your evening now, ladies." I swear that if he had been wearing a hat, he would have tipped it, before he swaggered off back to where he was sitting. I was tempted to blow a raspberry in his direction, but I held myself back.

"Well, I guess if you can't have a man, at least you got a good brother there Sookie," Arlene informed me.

"He seems very agreeable, and he's certainly attractive," Debbie said, pleasantly. "I wouldn't have picked that before meeting him."

"I don't like the taste of this Coke, you sure that's what it is?" Jannalynn queried.

"Yeah. That's a Jack Daniels and Coke, like you ordered."

"Well, maybe it's the Jack Daniels, then. Something ain't right." She pushed the drink towards me.

"OK. I'll take it back."

Long Shadow wasn't thrilled with the slur on his bar-tending skills. And he took that out on me with suggestions that if I'd been a better waitress, things might have gone better.

"I like the drinks here," Jane chimed in.

"You like the drinks anywhere," Long Shadow muttered darkly, but Jane ignored him.

"Well, Long Shadow thanks for re-doing that." I decided I was just going to rise about it. Rise above it all. I put the new drink on my tray and took it back to Jannalynn.

"Gosh, about time, Sookie!" she said. "We're getting hungry and no one was here to take our order!" She grinned

"Sorry about that," I apologised despite disliking myself for doing it. I looked over at where Dawn was wiping down a table. Slowly. There weren't a lot of people in her section. Ginger seemed to be having an animated conversation with a heavy-set guy wearing a trucker cap.

Why, oh why, could these three not have sat in one of their sections?

"No need to be sorry, Sookie," Debbie purred at me. "We know you're trying your best." It probably took some skill, managing to sound that condescending and understanding all at once.

I didn't even respond to that, although I had to admit that the constant, niggling verbal put-downs were making my self-esteem as raw as my hands had been turned by the gravel in the parking lot. One or two was fine, but this was getting me down something awful.

"So what'll you all have?" I asked, not even bothering with the smile that should have accompanied that question.

They gave me their orders, although Jannalynn managed to pepper with me with questions about the chicken strips and whether they were made from organic chickens. I offered to go and ask Lafayette for her, but she clucked her tongue in an annoyed fashion and said she'd have the chilli instead.

Debbie tried to order a salad and was surprised when I said we didn't offer them. So surprised that it took her several moments of, repeatedly, expressing her surprise to her dining companions before she could tell me that she would also have the chilli.

Arlene decided to break ranks and have the burger. Then thought she might change it to the chilli, and then changed her order back to the burger. I got the impression she was trying to fit in with the cool girls at the lunch table.

When I finally took their orders to the kitchen, Lafayette was there waiting for me. "Little Miss Pernickety back in tonight, is she?"

"Yeah. I guess. I hope she doesn't send the chilli back." I sighed.

"I could fix it so she does, but I don't think we want to go down that route with her." Lafayette stared out from the hatch at the table where the three women were now laughing and joking. "That one's got a mean edge. I'd stay away from her."

"Yeah."

"She didn't do that?" He pointed to my face.

"Nope." Jannalynn was awful at times, but I didn't think she was violent.

"Well…she got that vibe, that's all I'm saying. Bitch is as bitch does. But you're a big girl, Sookie. I'm sure you can handle yourself." He grinned at me.

I was glad Lafayette was feeling confident in my abilities. I was starting to feel like I was all just letting them get me down. "Um. Yeah. Thanks, Lafayette. And hey, can I get a burger? My break's coming up."

"With extra fries? Sure, Sookie. You got it."

I got some more beer for Jason and Hoyt and took it to them. "It's nice your old friends are down here, Sookie," Jason said. "It'd be real easy for them to just ignore you, after all. Now you're out here waitressing."

"Jeez, Jason. Thanks for the support."

Jason looked puzzled. "I didn't say nothing bad, Sook. Why're you so touchy tonight? Is it that time of the month?"

"No. You're an idiot all the month through. Enjoy your drinks."

I took Kenya and Kevin their check and collected the payment, cleaned up their table, had a quick conversation with Ginger about how quiet it was and watched Dawn hovering around the edges of her section, watching Jason. I wanted to tell her to just go on over and talk to him, but honestly, she was probably better off staying where she was.

And then the food for Arlene, Debbie and Jannalynn was ready. I loaded up my tray and took it over to them. Jannalynn screwed up her nose and didn't look particularly thrilled with her choice, but at least she didn't ask me to return it.

"Well, this looks lovely Sookie. I'm sure it will be very…um, appetising." Debbie smiled at her two companions made a great show of helping herself to some chilli.

I left them all to their meal.

I told Ginger I was taking a break and then I collected my burger from Lafayette and took it to a table far, far away from my customers in a back corner of the bar. "Real customers might want to sit there, Sookie," Dawn complained, as I'd sat in her section.

"Well, if they do, I'll arm-wrestle them for the table."

Dawn huffed and muttered something about how weird I was and left. I relished the chance to be alone, for a few moments anyway.

Eric came over and stood there for a few moments, watching me eat. And then he sat down. And ate one of my fries.

"Sure, Eric. You just help yourself." I waved my hand over my plate.

"Consider that the employee discount. You've got a lot of fries anyway."

"I hadn't pegged you for someone who was so married to the idea of re-distributing wealth."

Eric smiled at that comment. And ate another one of my fries. "Your problems all gone now?" he asked.

"Nope. But I'm hoping they at least tip well." We were quiet for a moment, I took a couple of bites of my burger, Eric helped himself to a few more fries. I wondered why he was here, and then decided I would never know and I should probably enjoy the chance for a little conversation.

Only I wasn't sure what to talk about. I decided to keep it light and non-personal. "So how's Bill getting on?" I asked him.

Eric frowned. "He is still here. And my computer is not fixed."

"Well, I guess it takes a little while…" I had no clue really, and only the vaguest idea about what Bill was actually doing.

"I suppose so. He keeps talking about the cleaning and how dreadful it is. And how bad for the poor computer, like I don't live with the dust too."

"Maybe you need to get new cleaners?" I'd only seen them a couple of times, they were a company who came in from Shreveport and it seemed we never got the same personnel twice.

"Maybe." Eric turned in his chair and looked around the bar. "It's not very busy."

"No. It's not." We were silent for a while as we both thought about that. "So…that's bad?" I asked.

"It's not ideal."

I took a bite of my burger, although watching Eric look around the bar and count the customers on the fingers of one of his hands was making me start to lose my appetite.

I felt the familiar worry gnawing away in the pit of my stomach and I put the burger down on my plate. "Do I need to be worried? I mean, you bought the TV, and I'd hate to think that you did that on my say-so and now somebody's losing their job." I stopped, and Eric sat there for a moment, just watching me.

"No."

"No?"

"No you don't need to be worried."

I thought about that. "About my own job, or about other people's jobs too?"

"You worry an awful lot about other people, Sookie."

"I have a lot of worries. These days." And right at that moment it sure did feel like it. I was starting to wonder if I was ever going to get back on an even keel.

"Well don't worry about the bar. It will work out."

"Because you say so?"

"Because I do. And I will do everything in my power to make it happen." Eric looked kind of fierce when he said that, like he was daring me to say he was wrong, and I had a weird lurch in my chest, something that was almost like pride.

Which was a silly thing really. He wasn't mine any more than I was his. I was never going to get up in the morning and make his eggs and pour him coffee and watch him read the newspaper while I told him about the errands I had to run. Or, a more likely scenario, given the fact he'd just announced his attention to throw everything he had at making a bar in the backwoods of Louisiana stay afloat, I was never going to lie in bed at night listening for the crunch of his tyres on the gravel and know he'd made him home safe, and look forward to him sharing with me the ups and downs of his evening.

No, that was not us. We were not those people. And while I might have wanted to throw myself into his arms earlier I knew he was never going to be my rock. But it was still nice hanging out with someone on my dinnerbreak.

"So anything else worrying you, Sookie?" Eric asked, one eye on the burger I'd discarded on my plate.

I shrugged. "A friend of mine is being followed, she thinks."

"And?"

"And I don't know if I should worry about that, or not. Seems an awful coincidence just after I got attacked. Also there's been some trouble, at that strip club in Monroe, but I don't know if that's anything to do with anything. When I spoke to Kevin, he thought they might just have some enthusiastic admirers."

"And you didn't have any admirers?"

"Well, they admired some parts of me." I looked down and Eric followed my gaze. "But I sure as hell wasn't going to let them get better acquainted."

"Well, that was their mistake, then." Eric hadn't lifted his eyes yet.

"What was?"

He looked back up. "Telling you what they wanted to do."

"They should have kept quiet on that front?"

Eric didn't reply, he just smiled at me. I smiled back and felt a little better although I had no idea why. Eric hadn't said anything to reassure me, and he'd all but suggested my attackers had only failed in their desire to grope me my telegraphing their intentions. It wasn't exactly a comforting conversation.

But it sure did feel good to just be talking about some of this with someone. To not have to blame that old kitchen cupboard and act like I was a silly, clumsy girl. To actually ask Eric if the bar was losing money, even though he didn't really answer. It still helped, to say it out loud, to say that was what I feared most.

Well, that and the fact that Jannalynn had finished and was looking for someone to clear her dishes away. I hoped that maybe D'Eriq might come out and do it. But she had figured out where I was sitting and looked at me pointedly.

"I gotta go. Some of the few paying customers here want a waitress." I stood up.

"Couldn't one of the others go?" Eric asked.

I shrugged. "Not if I want their tip." I wasn't exactly sure what, if anything, I could expect from those three, but it didn't seem right to hand them over to Ginger or Dawn just so they could pretend they were better than their waitress.

"Hey, Sookie! We're done!" Arlene called out, no doubt encouraged by the others.

"They seem to know you," Eric said, peering around me at the three women.

"I used to work with them."

To his credit, Eric didn't press for more details or tell me that it must be crappy having to wait on people I formerly worked alongside. Nor did he tell me how nice it was that they had come to see me. He just nodded, and then Jason came over to tell Eric that he liked the TV, and I could take my leave.

"So how were your meals?" I asked, when I reached my former work colleagues.

"Oh. Um…" Debbie looked like she was mulling that over. "Perfectly edible, thank you Sookie." She smiled and handed me her dirty dishes.

"Well my burger was OK," Arlene said. "But I thought the fries were a little crisped."

"OK." I picked up Arlene's dishes too. "I'll be right back." That made Jannalynn look a little sour but there was only so much I could carry.

When he saw me coming with the dishes, D'Eriq, to his credit, did scuttle out of the kitchen and clear the rest away. So when I went back it was to see if they wanted anything else, like another drink.

I hoped they didn't want another drink.

"No. I think we should go," Debbie spoke for the group. "We have work in the morning, and I, for one, don't want to be late. Wouldn't want the boss coming down too hard on me!" She giggled a little at that, and Jannalynn and Arlene joined in, exchanging knowing looks.

"Well, it's nice Alcide has you at work, now, Debbie. Because he sure did used to get awful lonesome when you weren't there."

Debbie stopped giggling and gave me a hard look. There was something in her eyes right then that was wholly unattractive and slightly intimidating. I'd discovered a sore spot and she was going to make me pay for that.

"Well I can hardly help that stupid women think he's fair game," she said. "After all the boss is always the one they throw themselves at." Her eyes slid sideways and I followed them and discovered Eric was standing back at the bar, and then she looked back at me and smirked.

Bitch.

"And of course Alcide has such a friendly style of management," I said, so evenly that I surprised myself.

"Uh-huh. He sure does," Arlene said, misreading the situation entirely. "I like working for him a whole lot."

"Sam, too," I added, mainly to Jannalynn. "After all, it takes a special kind of person to invest so much in his junior employees. You've come a long way in the last year, Jannalynn, with all of Sam's support. Debbie better watch out, you'll be after her job next!" I laughed a little at that, as though this was all good fun amongst friends.

Jannalynn scowled and said "I'm perfectly happy doing what I do now."

"And you have the advantage of working with your honey," I added. "Must be a big help to him. Say, you ever figure out that PackMaster thing?"

Jannalynn pressed her lips together and Debbie jumped in to answer. "We've severed our relationship with them now. There were some…misunderstandings. But that's business." She finished with a shrug.

"Sure is. Anyway, if you're ready to head on out, I'll go and get you your check." I walked over to the area that held the cash register and began preparing the check. I took a deep breath and just let a wave of relief wash over me. I'd survived Arlene, Debbie and Jannalynn coming in here to gawk at me and I wasn't any worse off than I was before.

"Here you go!" I said, brightly, as I took it back to the table.

"Thank you, Sookie. You've been working hard for us tonight." Debbie smiled at me as she picked up the check and then her purse from where it was slung over her seat.

I wasn't sure what to say to that. "Well. You're my customers."

"We are," Debbie said emphatically. "And it's been lovely to see you again and catch up."

Arlene echoed that sentiment and Jannalynn just busied herself looking through her wallet. I smiled and nodded and left, resisting the urge to skip and holler and generally show my enthusiasm for the fact that they were leaving.

And leave they did, with Arlene calling out more goodbyes across the bar and then giving up and running over to give me a big hug, before she left waving to Jason as she did so. I didn't really notice Debbie and Jannalynn go out the door, but I sure did notice how empty the bar was without them in it.

I really hoped Eric did figure out what to do about that soon. I wiped down the table they'd used and wondered when Pam would be back. She said she was in marketing; maybe she'd have some bright ideas?

But if that was the case, why hadn't Eric asked her before? And why had she mysteriously disappeared? I was no closer to figuring out that one and I guessed I wouldn't until Pam herself came back.

Ginger came over to me. "How's the eye?" she asked, still sounding a little suspicious.

"Oh. You know…" I realised that was probably the wrong thing to say given her earlier confession to me. "It's just a bruise. It'll heal."

"Well. Sure. That will, but not everything does." She gave me a significant look, and I nodded to show I understood. Don't put up with it, that was tonight's message.

I was half-tempted to tell her that I'd seen off the three harpies who'd descended on me earlier, but thought better of it. They were my problem, and it was to my relief that I'd survived. No one else would really appreciate it the same.

"Hey, uh, I figured while it's quiet we might re-arrange the tables."

"Re-arrange the tables?" This was the first I'd heard of it. Maybe it was standard practice to rotate them.

"Yeah. Now we've got that TV over there I figure maybe we need, like, I don't know…a TV-watching area? I was looking at your brother, and, bless him, he's sat himself down in your section to be friendly but he can't hardly watch the baseball now. He has to keep jumping up and stepping away to get a better look at the score. So if we had a group of tables there," she pointed to the space in front of the bar that was normally kept clear. Perhaps it had once served as a makeshift dancefloor; perhaps it was just kept clear for foot traffic. Either way it was just…there. And Ginger was right; it would be prime TV watching space. "Then those people who are just in for a drink and a look at the game will have some place to sit."

I wasn't sure whether I needed to be nervous or not about another one of the waitresses paying such close attention to Jason. "Of course it was Dawn who mentioned it to me first. She said she'd been watching him act like a jack in the box all night." OK, so maybe Dawn was still the interested party.

"You think Eric'll go for it?" Ginger asked me.

"I guess we can ask him."

"Swell. I knew you'd do it!" she said happily. Oh yeah, that's right. I'd been voted least likely to get my head bitten off when approaching the boss.

"OK. I'll go out back shortly and see what he thinks of the idea."

"Great, Sookie! Guess we can figure out who gets that section later on. I think Dawn said she'll cover it, but she might just be thinking there'll be higher turnover and more tips. I was thinking we should divide it up."

I suspected Dawn thought it would give her greater opportunity to lure Jason out of my section, but that didn't mean it was an unsound idea. "Yeah, we can decide that later," I agreed.

Ginger walked away, back to her lone customer and I was wondering if now would be the right time to approach Eric, as he'd gone back to his office, when Bill came out from the back. "I'm all done," he said to me.

"Great. I'm sure Eric appreciates all your hard work."

Bill raised his eyebrows at that. "I think he's glad to have a working computer again. I think he feels that payment is appreciation enough."

"Has he? Paid you?" I realised I was being nosey, but after Bill's haste to obtain payment and Eric's confession that business wasn't exactly booming, I was hoping to gauge some idea of what 'not ideal' actually meant.

Bill gave me a small smile and patted my arm, which I did not find particularly helpful. "It's under control, Sookie." That was even less helpful.

"So you're not worried anymore? About him running out?"

Bill gave me another smile, but this one was tinged with a little sadness. I'd seen that look before, and it usually preceded something I didn't really want to hear. "I think his business is in need of a…" Bill looked around the nearly empty bar. "A boost, shall we say? But I don't think he's going anywhere."

"Why not?" Bill was being all mysterious and it bugged me. If he knew something about Eric, or the bar, then I wanted him to share it with me. After all, it was going to affect me more than him. This was my sole income, to Bill it was a small piece of work on the side to bolster the money from his investments.

"Because he's spent most of the evening asking me about you, Sookie."

I did not know quite what to say to that. "I guess he was just making conversation? Seeing as he's new here and I'm the person you have in common?" I looked hopefully at Bill, waiting for him to confirm that that's all it was.

"In more ways than one, Sookie. Good night." And with that he turned and walked out of the bar.

I watched his back until he'd gone out the door and disappeared into the night. I thought a little about what Bill had said and decided it was probably exaggerated. And then I thought I might as well strike while the iron was hot and go and ask Eric about the new seating arrangement. As it was I could see Dawn and Ginger having an animated conversation that involved a lot of pointing at the space in question. I thought that, if left alone, they might just make the change anyway and Eric would be none too pleased.

I pushed open the swinging door to the back corridor and was so intent on working through how I was going to word my proposal to Eric, that I didn't see the person who stepped out of the store room to bar my progress.

"Debbie? Why're you back here?"

She shrugged. "I got lost. Looking for the bathroom."

"But you left," I said, stupidly. "You all left a while ago." I couldn't quite make sense of the situation or why she was back here, now. It didn't seem like Debbie to get so hopelessly lost and, even she had been, surely she would have just gone back the way she came by now. And although Debbie might be a lot of things, I didn't peg her as a thief, out here trying to carry off Eric's stock or our belongings.

Debbie pulled a face that showed me what she thought of my blatantly incorrect statements. She was standing right there after all. "I just wanted to say goodbye to you Sookie. Properly."

"OK." I got the feeling this was a lot more than a goodbye.

"When Jannalynn said she'd run into you here, well, naturally I wanted to come down and see how you were doing."

"She was with Sam and he didn't look like he wanted anyone to know that," I blurted out in a last-ditch attempt to throw Jannalynn under the bus in my place.

"Well…he was a little, uh, gun-shy? Not sure how that kind of relationship would be viewed in the workplace. But, you know, Sookie, we're a family-run business and we take our employee's happiness quite seriously. I'm _thrilled_ for them. Really, truly thrilled."

"Mostly because it's something you have over Sam now? He can't step out of line because you can throw it back in his face that he was messing around with Jannalynn in the office?"

"I think messing around implies it was more one-sided than it was. Let's just say it's all been quite mutually beneficial." Well Jannalynn might be a scheming little toad, but I'd say Debbie had her pegged. And beaten.

I wondered what she had in store for me.

"Well, I'm glad to be out of there," I said. "There's friendly workplaces, and then there's too-friendly."

Debbie rolled her eyes. "Oh, Sookie honey! You think you could have got Sam? Alcide? Sookie, you wouldn't know what to do with them if you did catch them."

"Well maybe that ain't my aim in life. To catch someone who can make my life better."

"You know, you are charmingly naïve. I can see how it appeals to them all." She took a step and eyed me up and down. "But Sookie, you'll have to smarten up your act."

"Maybe I don't want to have an act." I sounded sullen, like a teenager who didn't want to listen to the advice of her elders.

Debbie laughed at that statement. "Oh, Sookie! You carry on like this and you'll still be waiting tables here when you're 40, only by then you'll have a saggy chest and varicose veins and no one will look twice at you. Sure it's fine now, you can twitch your behind around and smile, and giggle and they all stand around like drooling dogs at a barbecue, but really, what's gonna be left for you? You've got nothing Sookie."

"I've got friends."

"Friends are not going to cut it when you're old and alone. You think Arlene's having a swell time of it?"

"She's got her kids."

"And you think that makes it easier for her?" Debbie clucked her tongue. "You know how unreliable she is at work, all those hours she can't come in because she has to be with her children. It will be a shame if we have to let her go."

I wanted to tell Debbie exactly what I thought of her in that moment, but I held back. She was dangling Arlene's fate in front of me to goad me, and I simply wouldn't give her the satisfaction. So I shrugged.

That wasn't the reaction Debbie wanted, though. So she kept going. "I mean, you'd know how tough it is without a job, wouldn't you Sookie? And the disappointment of lowering your expectations. It's been hard on you, I can tell."

"And you came to commiserate with me?"

"Sookie I just came to…well. It doesn't really matter. Needless to say I'll be able to tell Alcide that I don't think he needs to worry about you any further. You'll get by. Nothing more, but that's all some people get. Sometimes the size of your bust doesn't make you all that special."

I got stuck for a moment on the 'all that special' dig and it took a while for my brain to delve through the other things she'd said. Alcide? She was here because of Alcide?

"You're that threatened by me, are you Debbie?" Inside I felt a little better, like I was getting the upper hand.

"Why would I be threatened by you?" Debbie spat out. "You're nothing."

"But Alcide didn't think so, and that bugs you."

"I think you're over-estimating your charms, Sookie." And then her eyes flashed with something nasty and cold. "And you are nothing but a low-class whore who keeps throwing herself at any man she can find. I saw you tonight with that new boss of yours, laughing and joking with him. The same thing you used to do with Alcide. Leading him on, trying to steal him away. You don't get to have him, Sookie. You don't get to have him because you're _nothing_!" Debbie spat that last word out and I was shocked by the vehemence with which she was speaking. I couldn't fathom the depth of her…well, hatred of me, that must have driven her to come here and confront me like this.

I didn't understand it at all, and I was trying to figure out a way to reply when we were interrupted. Debbie's voice was quite loud now, and our discussion had obviously attracted the attention of Eric, as he stuck his head out of his office. "What's going on?" he asked.

"Debbie was just leaving." I sounded as definite as I could on the matter, but there was a slight shake in my voice.

"Go!" he said to Debbie. "You are not an employee and you should not be here." He sounded angry and not at all like someone you would want to mess with right at that moment.

Debbie had recovered her composure somewhat. "I will go. I have said what I think of you, and I hope we never see each other again." With that she turned and high-tailed it back into the bar.

I hadn't realised that I was shaking until I took a moment to gather myself. Debbie had been so hateful, so spiteful, and so utterly dismissive of me as a person. I wasn't sure I'd ever experienced something quite like that before.

"You're upset," Eric stated, and I nodded in the affirmative. "You're OK, now Sookie. She's gone. I sent her away."

"I know…and thank-you. But I could have managed her."

Eric looked at me, his blue eyes dark and his gaze slightly unnerving. "You were upset. I don't like it when you're upset." He was so forthright that for a moment I thought he might be about to blame me for getting upset and causing him all the bother. And then he paused. "I'm not used to that," he confessed, looking down and then back up again.

I felt the same desire to run into his arms that I had earlier in the evening, but I held back once more. "I appreciate your…um, that you care, Eric. But, you know, I'm not looking for a white knight to ride in and solve all my problems. That's not what I want."

"You want someone else." Eric's tone was downright accusatory, as if I'd been stringing him along. Maybe I had, although I liked to think I wasn't that kind of person. If I had been, then I hoped this would put him straight.

"No. No, I'm just looking for something more."

Eric looked at me curiously. "What?" He didn't sound quite so angry now.

I thought for a moment. "I just want someone who'll agree with me that when I say I've had a crappy day, I have had a crappy day. I want someone who'll make me laugh, and feel safe, and feel appreciated and that maybe it might be worthwhile getting up tomorrow because that might not be so crappy. I just want someone who'll be there."

"And that isn't me?"

"I think we both know Eric, that…right now, right at this time, it can't be you. You said yourself earlier; you've got this bar to worry about." I gestured around with my hand. "You've got people counting on you and you can't be what I need. What I want, anyway." I looked at Eric and he looked a little resigned now. I felt bad for him. "I guess you're not used to hearing that."

"I don't like hearing it from you. You have no faith in me."

"And you think I should?"

"I think… that I am not quite the man you think I am."

We were silent for a moment. "But you can't change those things, can you? About the bar? About…being my boss?"

"No." I waited for Eric to say something else, to try to persuade me to change my mind, to come up with some argument that deftly refuted every point I'd made.

But he didn't. And I felt my heart sink a little with the weight of the resignation that sprang up from Eric's silence.

"I need to get back to work," I mumbled and I practically ran all the way back to the bar and earned myself a surprised look from Long Shadow in the process.

"You havin' some party back there? With the customers?" he asked me.

I didn't even reply.

I had to break the news to Ginger that Eric wasn't in the right mood that night to discuss furniture placement and she was sure disappointed, so I promised I would do it the next night, although I was intending to stay as far away from Eric Northman as I could from then on.

He just made everything too…complicated.

I spent the rest of my shift putting that plan into action and was pleased with the result. By the time I left I had not seen Eric again.

I had seen Jason, who informed me that the place was much better with some decent TV. It didn't seem to affect the amount he tipped me though. And I spent time with Jane when it was closing, calling her son and helping her scoop up the contents of her purse when it spilled as she was climbing down off her barstool.

"Where's your fella, Sookie?" she asked me.

"Oh. You know. Bill had to go." I didn't bother telling her he wasn't my fella anymore, not when she'd likely been calling him Jason the whole time he was here.

"No. Not the Compton boy. The other one. The one you were on a date with."

"Date?"

"Mmm-hmm." Jane looked at me slyly. "I saw the two of you love-birds sitting way back there in the dark. Me and Marvin used to like that too, sitting in the back booth of a bar." For a moment, she looked like she was far away in her thoughts. "Say, it's real nice here, isn't it? And the staff are real friendly, too."

"Yep, Jane. They are. Now, let's go see where your son's at."

I finished up all my closing duties under the watchful gaze of Dawn and then I said my goodbyes to Ginger and Lafayette, took my purse from my locker, and let myself out the door to the parking lot at the back. For a moment I was totally disoriented. The parking lot was bathed in such bright light that I felt like I'd stepped into an alien abduction.

When I checked I saw that two new, high-power spot-lights had been fixed to the building and were now illuminating most of the cars parked there. They hadn't been there the previous night when I'd spoken to Dawn by the back door; Eric must have had them fitted earlier in the day. I guessed getting jumped in the parking lot again was maybe one less thing I had to worry about now.

I walked all the way to my car with a smile on my face.

**Thanks for reading!**


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N Once again a big thank-you for turning up here again, when I feel like I'm perpetually running late posting these chapters. One day I'll get on top of things!**

**Disclaimer: Not mine. **

I started off Friday night without seeing Eric, which was a good start as far as I was concerned. There were glimpses, here and there, but I'd expected that. It was always going to be hard to avoid him completely. One time he was just a back disappearing through the doorway to the back of the bar, another time I saw him duck into his office as I went out to the employee bathroom.

It was difficult to work out who was avoiding who.

Trouble was that my colleagues weren't so thrilled with my new 'avoid Eric at all costs' policy. "Why don't you want to tell him our idea?" Dawn asked me, for about the hundredth time. "Is it because it's our idea, and not yours?"

"No. No! It's just I don't want to bother him. Right now, anyway." We were both waiting at the hatch to the kitchen for Lafayette to pass over some food.

"You were sure botherin' him the other night," Dawn said, as Lafayette placed a couple of baskets out and she loaded them onto her tray. "Looks like you were doing nothing but botherin' him when I caught you."

"Dawn, I don't think we have to keep going over and over that. I'd really like to just let that go." I didn't expect that it would happen though.

And it really wasn't going to happen now that Lafayette had overheard Dawn. "What you been up to, Sookie?" he asked, as he lent over the hatch. "No good, I bet."

"Just ignore Dawn," I muttered, but Dawn, who was walking off to take the food to her customers called out "Ask her about the kissing in the office," over her shoulder. Damn her.

"Who was kissin' in the office?" Lafayette asked, and then he narrowed his eyes at me. "Is that why Eric's all moody? You was usin' his office for a hook-up with that ex of yours keeps hangin' around back there, pokin' all the computers and shit?"

"Oh. Um. No." That was a terrifying thought. "Say, are those chicken strips ready?"

"Dunno," Lafayette stood up and folded his arms. "D'Eriq's doin' those for you." He cocked his head. "So what you been up to Miss Sookie?"

"Nothing."

"You are lyin'. I can tell." Lafayette smiled smugly. "It was you. You've been kissin' the boss and that's why Miss Hot-pants over there, she all out of joint about it. He traded up."

"OK. That's…" I wasn't sure really what it was, there were elements of it that I couldn't deny, but maybe it wasn't my interpretation of events. Didn't we all want to paint ourselves in the best light? "It was just a kiss. Once. And it didn't mean _anything_. And it's not happening again."

"Mmm-hmmm. Well, it had better happen again."

"But, why?"

"Because if he comes in here one more time yellin' about portion sizes and wastage and all the other shit he was up in my face about this evening, then I will do somethin' I regret and, I'm sorry to say, that will be the death of the dining experience in this establishment." Lafayette nodded twice, as to emphasise his commitment to carrying through on that threat.

"So…Eric yelled at you and now I have to keep him sweet to stop it happening again?"

"You do. It's called teamwork Missy, and you know if I could, I'd do it instead. For the team, you understand? But it's you he wants, so all I can say is, you get on that soon as you can, make this a nicer workplace for us all, you hear?"

"Why are you so certain he wants me?" I was feeling a little disgruntled now. Everyone was happy making assumptions about me and Eric and really, I just wanted them all to butt out and leave me alone.

Lafayette just rolled his eyes dramatically. "Oh, Sookie! You do so make me laugh. Now, here's your chicken strips. You take those, and then go see the boss."

I didn't bother replying, I simply delivered the two baskets to Andy Bellefleur and Bud Dearborn. "Thank-you, Sookie," Bud said, as I put them down on their table.

"Can I get you anything else?" I inquired, and Andy shook his head. I hesitated for a moment, about to spin around and leave, and then I stopped, and turned to Andy and asked, "Hey, did you hear any more about the strippers in Monroe who were being followed?"

Bud frowned. "Monroe? Sookie, that's not our problem."

"No. But it was just Kevin mentioned it last night…" I hoped I wasn't getting Kevin into trouble.

"Kevin's got some strange ideas about what we need to concern ourselves with," Andy said, after swallowing a mouthful of beer. "And about what we tell waitresses. Short answer is, I don't know, and I don't care. Not my town and, quite frankly, a bunch of strippers shouldn't be surprised about some men hanging around. Kind of the point of their job really. You take your clothes off for money, you're gonna attract all sorts of trouble. Ain't really news."

There wasn't really much I could say to that, so I simply left them to their meal. More and more I was getting the feeling that Eric had been right, that there wasn't much point in reporting my mugging to the police. I suspected that Andy and Bud's views on strippers weren't that far off their views on waitresses. After all, we wandered around at night with a bunch of money; of course we were fair game.

Maybe that was just me feeling a little fed up and cynical, but I sure wasn't feeling particularly generous towards our local law enforcement.

I was about to head over to the bar, when I noticed that Eric was there, having a heated conversation with Long Shadow. He was pointing to the back room and then pointing to the shelves behind the bar. At a guess, I'd say the topic of the evening was stock levels.

I decided I might keep out of that.

I kept my back to the bar and walked around my tables, checking to see if anyone needed anything. I passed by some workers from the Norcross plant, but they waved me away, and I asked Terry Bellefleur if he'd like another drink, as he'd been nursing that beer for a while. Terry at least spoke to me, but he said no as well. I kept circling though, because no matter what happened, I wasn't going to look at Eric.

Sadly that just meant that I ran into Dawn again. "He's just at the bar, you could go over there now," she hissed at me.

"I just…why me?"

Dawn rolled her eyes. "He likes you."

"I don't think he likes anyone right now."

Dawn shrugged. "Well, OK then. _The most_. He likes you the most. Maybe. So you should do it, because on a night like this, it'd be really good to have a few tables for the people just trying to watch the TV. I nearly had a fight in my section because that big guy was blocking the view of everyone else, and it's not like Long Shadow's going to do anything about it."

"Dawn, this was clearly your idea. Why don't you propose it to Eric?"

"Oh. Oh no. No, I couldn't." She shook her head vehemently.

"Yeah, you could. I mean…you were doing that other work for him…" I trailed off. I still didn't know all the details about that, and Dawn didn't seem all that forthcoming.

"I guess…" She bit her lip and looked down at the floor. "But he didn't think I did a very good job. I think…well, no, I know that he thinks I'm all but useless." She looked at me through her lashes and I caught a glimpse of the Dawn who didn't get out very much, the one who didn't seem as confident in her abilities to blaze her way through any situation just by using her charms.

"Well, now's your chance to prove him wrong!" I sounded a little over-hearty even to my own ears, but I really did think that Dawn should be the one to tell Eric her idea, and it wasn't entirely just a matter of me trying to dodge that particular encounter.

I was fairly certain I wanted to dodge all encounters with Eric from now on. I just wasn't sure how I was going to achieve that, given that we worked at the same place. I was sure going to try, though.

"You think?" Dawn asked, looking over her shoulder at Eric.

"Yeah. But just, ah…maybe pick your time." Eric sure looked mad now, and we watched as he pushed the door to the back so hard I was afraid it might swing right off its hinges. Then he was gone again, back to sit in his office…

I decided it was best not to think about what he was doing in that office.

Dawn nodded. "Sure. Yeah. I'll wait a bit and then…maybe I could take him out some food, or something?"

"He likes fries. I think. So, that's a good plan. You do that." I hoped Dawn would be OK with Eric and that she made it back out of the office alive. But I had customers to worry about and one who'd just arrived I was particularly anxious to talk to.

"Claudine," I said, when I caught up to her. "Come and sit here."

"Oh, thanks Sookie." I led Claudine to a free table in my section.

"So what brings you here tonight?" I asked her.

"Well, I just thought that maybe I'd drop in and see where you worked!"

"Ah…and you're just here, by yourself?"

"Mmm-hmm," Claudine confirmed, while nodding and looking around. "I don't mind being by myself at all. I kind of like it."

"Oh. OK then. What'll I get you?"

Of course Claudine wanted a glass of wine, which we didn't serve. I was going to have to mention that to Eric…although maybe not. Maybe I'd get Dawn to take it up with him if she had any success over her re-design of the seating plan.

In the end she settled for a gin and tonic and I took her order to the bar, where I found Ginger was now making drinks. "What happened to Long Shadow?" I asked.

"Got chewed out by the boss and he's gone away to lick his wounds," Ginger informed me. "Now I gotta do the work of two people, and that ain't fair, is it Jane?"

"Nope," Jane said from her seat at the bar. "But you're sure prettier to look at, honey."

Ginger laughed at that, and I took Claudine's drink back to her. "Can you sit?" she asked me.

"I guess. For a while." I sat down in the chair opposite Claudine.

"Sookie," she said, looking down at the table. "You know I think that you're a very good dancer."

"Oh. Well you're a great teacher. I'm really enjoying it."

Claudine broke into a huge smile. "Are you? That's great." She thought for a moment. "And your friend…um, Tara? Is she enjoying it too?"

"Well, she missed a couple of classes because, uh…" I wondered if I was allowed to spread Tara's news, and, if so, how far?

"Because she's expecting?" Claudine asked, and I nodded, dumbly. "Tara did tell me quietly," she said. "Just so I'd know why she wasn't throwing herself onto the floor anymore."

"Oh. OK." I hadn't thought of that. I guessed because I'd never been pregnant. It sure did seem a little like an imposition.

"I might knit her some booties, for the baby."

"I didn't know you could knit." It seemed a little incongruous with Claudine's glamorous, polished image. Even for her trip to Vic's Redneck Roadhouse I notice that she'd styled her hair and was wearing high, high heels with her tight, tight jeans.

"Oh yes. It's useful to have something to pass the time when you're rehearsing, or waiting at an audition. I used to go everywhere with my knitting needles. I even managed to teach some of the girls at…," Claudine paused. "Well, the other dancers."

"See, there are those teaching skills again," I said brightly.

Just then Jason suddenly appeared behind me and tapped me on my shoulder. "Hey, Sook. How's about some beers for me and Hoyt?"

I was about to tell him that I wasn't working right then even though, really, I should have been working, but instead he suddenly leaned right over me with one arm extended. "Hi. I'm Jason, Sookie's brother."

Oh. Right. Introductions. Well I would have done that if Jason hadn't been so busy pestering me for beer. I couldn't see, but I could certainly imagine, the brilliant smile that Jason was bestowing on Claudine.

And she was smiling right back as she extended her hand. "I'm Claudine Crane. I teach Sookie's dance class."

"Oh, yeah. Sookie said she was doing that. Hey, good to be light on your feet when you're getting those beers, ain't it Sook?" Jason clapped me on the shoulder.

"Well, Sookie's very good at burlesque. She has real talent. You should come and watch her some time." I would have been more worried about Claudine's suggestion had I thought Jason might actually go through with it.

Instead he said a not very convincing. "Maybe." Then he paused, and, I guessed, switched the charm offensive back on. "But I'd sure like to see you dance, Claudine. Seeing as how you're a professional and all."

"Oh. My talent has its limits. Although I do admit to it being kind of addictive. Performing, that is." Claudine shrugged as she said that, and she didn't seem too concerned.

"Say, Claudine?" Jason said suddenly. "You look real familiar. Have I seen you somewhere before?"

"Around Bon Temps, probably. She does teach there." I was getting a little tired of Jason's chat-up lines and figured I'd help him out a little.

"Naw. Naw somewhere else…like your work, maybe?"

"Well, you come into Dillard's in Monroe, much? I work there. Personal shopping." Claudine looked up at Jason, her dark eyes brilliant and shining. Not for the first time I marvelled at just how beautiful she was. It didn't seem fair in a way that one person could be just that damn attractive.

I suddenly became acutely aware of how grubby and unkempt I felt, my t-shirt a little untucked, and sporting a ketchup stain on one side, my ponytail loose and sweaty, damp curls framing my forehead.

I wanted to be Claudine when I grew up.

"Can't say as I do. I don't hold much for shopping for shopping's sake," Jason said.

"Well, anytime you need some help, come see me. I'll help you pick out something real nice for your special lady." All credit to Claudine, she was sure remaining pleasant while letting Jason know she wasn't interested. I wondered if I should ask her advice about Bill.

"Oh, I don't have a special lady," Jason replied, smoothly. "But I sure am hoping to meet the right one. Soon."

"I hope you do too. Well, it was very nice to meet you Jason."

"Um. Yeah. OK." Jason sounded a little unsure of himself now. "I'll see you with those beers, Sook."

"Uh-huh. I'm on it." Jason left and, by rights, I should have hustled to get his beer, but I felt a little lazy just then. My week had been full of highs and lows and well…excitement. I had to admit that I couldn't remember a week that had been such a rollercoaster.

I wondered if my life was going to continue on like this.

"You can see the resemblance," Claudine said to me, as she watched Jason disappear.

"You can?"

"Oh yes, he's…um, how do I put this? He's got a certain…attractiveness."

Well that wasn't new. "All the girls love Jason. Always have." I was mostly used to it by now, although it didn't make watching the way he treated some of them any more palatable.

"No, I don't mean how he looks. I mean that he…he draws people in, makes them feel good. Like you do."

"I do?" I asked.

"Yep. You do. Why do you think everyone new in the class gravitates towards you, Sookie?"

I opened my mouth to reply to that, but then realised I didn't know what to say. So I closed it again. "You seem surprised," Claudine remarked.

"I guess I am. I mean, it's not something I was trying to do."

"I don't think it'd be the same if you were, Sookie. I think it's just you. At the risk of sounding a little hippy-ish, you send off a positive vibe."

"Well, I sure wish those positive vibes would do me some good in life." I sighed. I felt like it was surely my turn for something good to happen.

"You having a tough time?" Claudine asked, and she looked at me so sympathetically that I just about walked around the table and sat down in her lap so she could comfort me, like Gran had done when I was little girl.

"Well, it's not been easy since I lost my job," I confessed. "But I'm doing all right here, I guess." Apart from the time I got mugged coming out of work, that is.

"And you got someone special in your life?" Claudine looked at me expectantly.

"Ah. No. It's, uh…it's complicated." I looked down at my hands on the table.

"How?"

I took a deep breath in, and I decided. Why shouldn't I tell someone? Why couldn't I talk about my feelings with my friend?

"He's my boss. He owns this place…and, well…I don't think I want to date the boss…but…"

"But you want to date him?"

I looked over at Claudine. "I want to do something to him," I confessed. "I don't know. I don't think I should risk it, though. I think that would be asking for trouble."

"Sometimes trouble's not so bad. Keeps life interesting."

"Sometimes a quiet life is good too. And not being the object of ridicule when everyone finds out you're sleeping with your boss." That was the insurmountable problem.

"He can't keep a secret?"

I laughed at that, and Claudine looked puzzled. "No. No, he's very good at keeping secrets."

"So?"

"So…I don't know. I just don't think it's a good idea."

Claudine put her chin on her hand. "I think sometimes you just have to be open to what life is gonna bring you, Sookie."

"Phfft. That doesn't sound hippy-ish at all." I couldn't see how that would work. We didn't live in a perfect world and looking at it all through Claudine's rose-tinted glasses was just going to land me in a big mess I could rather do without.

Claudine shrugged and sat back in her chair. "Sometimes you just gotta give it your all. Look at me. Didn't make it as a dancer in New York, but I hardly gave up, did I?"

"That's a little different," I said, somewhat sullenly. "That doesn't leave you with your reputation in tatters and no job."

"That's exactly where it left me, Sookie. But I don't have any regrets, and I think that'd be worse. At least I know I gave it my best shot."

I thought about that a little. I mean, would it really be that bad, if things didn't work out with Eric? Maybe I'd already had the worst thing that life was going to throw at me? Maybe I'd survived that and I could survive something else? Maybe I was stronger than I gave myself credit for?

But before I could say anything to Claudine about the fact I was starting to see her point, she looked over my shoulder and visibly stiffened. "Oh. Gosh. Look at the time. I better get going now." She reached down to pick up her purse, but kept one wary eye on the scene behind me.

I looked over my shoulder expecting to see Jason heading our way, looking for his beer and ready to hit on Claudine again, but he was chatting to Amy Burley by the bar instead. Long Shadow had just come out from the back and Amy turned and gave him her order.

"Well, it was nice to see you Claudine," I said. She'd stood up now, so I did too. I had to go back to work anyway.

"Take care, Sookie," Claudine said, grabbing me in a hug which nearly knocked me off my feet. "Be safe."

"Oh. I will."

Claudine walked briskly towards the door, and I picked up the glass she'd used. She'd barely touched her drink.

Near the door she paused, looked over her shoulder, and then did a weird, creeping run back towards me. "Just remember that people aren't always who they seem. Be careful who you share yourself with, OK?"

This advice seemed completely contrary to what Claudine had been telling me only moments before. "Uh. OK, Claudine. Sure will." Claudine stroked my cheek, the one with the fading bruise, and then, with one final glance at Jason, she was gone.

Odd. But I didn't dwell on it. I walked over to Terry's table and asked if he needed anything else. He considered for a good long while, and I waited as patiently as I could. Terry was a Vietnam veteran and, while he'd returned to Bon Temps whole in body, his mind had never been the same and he didn't handle stress well. That included pushy waitresses. Eventually, after what I assumed was a lot of internal debate on the matter, he asked for the check.

On my way to get that for him, Jason waved at me. "Never mind there, Sook. Amy got me a beer!"

"That's great, Jason. You guys get one for Hoyt too?" I looked at over at Hoyt who was sitting there drumming his fingers on the table.

"Hoyt? Nah. Well…he'll ask you, won't he?"

"I guess." Sure enough after I took Terry his check, I stopped by Hoyt and took his order, delivering it back to him after I picked up the payment Terry had left on the table. "You OK there, on your own?" I asked Hoyt.

"Oh yeah, Sookie. And Jase'll be back in a moment." He nodded and took a sip of his beer, seeming to be a lot surer than I was that Jason hadn't abandoned him for the night.

I took Terry's money to the cash register, and pocketed the tip he'd left, wondering how I was going to manage going to the bathroom and making sure I avoided Eric. I was thinking that perhaps I needed to send Dawn back there on her mission to discuss seating areas first.

I tried to work out if my plan was cunning or merely smacked of desperation. And then the thing that really made this night stand out more than any other happened; out of all the bars in Northern Louisiana he walked into mine.

Well, Eric's bar really. With Victor's name still above the door. But that was beside the point. I looked at the door, and he was there. Quinn.

He was scanning the bar, looking for a table, and then he saw me, and our eyes met, and I smiled wider than I thought I had in a long time.

I was just so pleased to see him.

He stepped further into the bar, as I hustled over to him, nearly bumping Dawn on the way past. "Jeez, Sookie. Steal all the damned customers, why don't you?" she said, but I didn't reply. Quinn wasn't just a customer, and, anyway, didn't she have a conversation to go and have with Eric?

"Well, Sookie Stackhouse! Look at you," Quinn said, looking me up and down as I approached.

"John Quinn. Look at yourself." Quinn bowed low and I laughed at his attempt to be formal in the middle of a bar. "Come over here, why don't you, and have a seat."

I led Quinn over to a table in my section and then handed him a menu. "So, you're working here now? I heard through the grapevine you'd moved on from Herveaux's."

"Yep. Been here a while now."

Quinn looked thoughtful. "It was mighty shitty what they did to you, Sookie."

"Were you keeping tabs on me, Quinn?" I asked, my tone light and teasing.

"Aw, Sookie. You can't blame me, can you?" Quinn looked at me and remembered how much I'd always loved his eyes, the unusual purple colour fringed by dark lashes that stood out against his olive complexion. He was sure a handsome man.

"So what can I get you, Quinn?"

"Beer and burger." He laid the menu down emphatically.

"Coming right up." I took a step away from the table, but Quinn caught my arm.

"You'll come back? And talk a while?"

"Oh, sure. But I gotta get this order in. And check on my other customers. But I'll be back. I wouldn't…well; it's great to see you. I want to catch up."

"Great, Sookie. And now I just need the bathroom?" I pointed to where it was and watched him as he walked over there. There were a great many things I'd loved about Quinn.

"Who's the big guy?" Long Shadow asked when I placed the order for the beer.

"A friend."

"Hmm." Long Shadow didn't seem all that impressed one way or the other. "And that girl? From earlier? She's your friend too."

"Yeah…" I wasn't sure why Long Shadow was so interested in which friends I had visiting me at work.

"Knew you were good at keepin' secrets. He know?"

"Who? What?" I was really confused now.

"Who'd you think? You stringing the boss along is going to be interesting to watch. That's all I'm sayin'. And I bet your brother don't know, either. You sure are entertaining, Blondie." Long Shadow chuckled to himself unpleasantly, before he turned away and I was left confused by the whole conversation.

I put it down to the general air of discontent created by Eric's less than complimentary assessment of Long Shadow's work ethic earlier in the evening, and moved on. Next, I went to the kitchen.

"Who's the hunk you were dancing with out the front there, Sookie? The bald guy, looks like he got it bad for you?" Lafayette asked me, as I handed over Quinn's order.

"Oh, that's just Quinn." I shrugged.

"Just Quinn, my ass," Lafayette hissed. "Hell, I don't care if you want to sashay around the bar with some guy who looks like he should be wearing spandex and throwing chairs in a wrestling match, but, honey, you don't let Eric see it, OK?"

"Well it ain't his business who my friends are." I was getting mighty annoyed with Lafayette that night. First he was trying to get me to throw myself at Eric in order to sweeten his mood, and now he wanted me to hide my friends away in case Eric saw them.

Contrary to popular opinion, Eric Northman was _not_ the centre of my universe.

Lafayette shrugged. "Honey, I ain't saying its right, I'm just saying that if Eric burns this place to the ground 'cos he's feelin' sore about Mr Muscles over there, then we all got bigger problems than you being able to maintain your friendships, you get me?"

I nodded, although I really wasn't happy with what Lafayette was saying. I wasn't about to have a falling out with him over it, not when Quinn was just passing through and I would still be working here the next day.

At least, I assumed Quinn was just passing through.

I carried over his beer, but couldn't stop there, as my table of Norcross workers wanted some fried pickles and more beer and they waved me over to take that order. On my way back from there, Andy and Bud asked for their check. I dealt with them first, and pocketed the tip they left me, which seemed to have been calculated to the cent of what was acceptable.

At the bar, Ginger was waiting for me. "That guy, that your fella?" she asked, pointing to Quinn and not sounding too happy about him.

"No. No, he's, uh, just a friend these days…" Ginger was staring daggers at Quinn. "And I haven't seen him in an age. He lives outta town."

Ginger stood down, just a little. "Well, if you say so Sookie." And then she loaded up some drinks on her tray and walked off, one eye still on Quinn. It was a little like watching a handbag-sized dog staring down an Alsatian.

When Quinn's burger was ready I managed to grab it, along with the fried pickles for my other table, and run before Lafayette had time to remind me again that I needed to make sure Eric didn't see me spending any time with Quinn.

I delivered the pickles, and then I took Quinn his burger. "Will you sit a moment, Sookie?" he asked.

"I will. Just a moment." I took a seat.

"Mighty surprised to run into you," he said. "I thought…well, I thought after being let go you would have moved on."

"Oh no. This is my home. I wouldn't want to move." Quinn nodded, and ate some of his burger. "So how you doin' anyway? Still travelling around, selling sofas?" I asked.

"Yep. Sure am." That was how Quinn and I had met, he'd called into Herveaux's every so often and we'd got to talking and gone on a few dates, but he was based in Jackson, and his work and his mother and sister kept him busy there, and I was here, in Bon Temps. Things fizzled out and then I took up with Bill anyway.

But if Claudine had been talking about missed chances earlier in the evening, then this was one I'd always wondered about. Especially when Bill and I had broken up. I'd thought about Quinn, and I thought what it would be like if things were simple and we could just be together, just us, without complications.

Why was life always so damn full of complications?

"I have got some news," Quinn said, and I gave him my best 'please, tell me more' look. He put down his food and pulled his cellphone out of his jeans pocket, pushed some buttons and handed it over.

"That's Sumalee. She was four months there. She's six months now."

Oh. A baby. A very cute, very tiny, baby girl in a pink dress with ruffles and bloomers and tiny little white patent leather shoes that seemed ridiculous on someone who probably couldn't hold her head up yet let alone walk.

"She's lovely," I said, letting out a breath I wasn't aware I'd been holding in. Quinn reached over and swiped the screen of the phone and the picture changed. Now the baby was being held by a woman who looked like she should be sporting a bra and wings and marching down a runway.

"That's Tie," Quinn said, kind of proudly.

"Tie?" That was how the name sounded to me, although I had no doubt there was probably some other way to spell it.

"She's Dutch. Well half-Dutch, half-Indonesian." Boy that sounded exotic, a lot more exotic than a girl from Bon Temps could ever be.

I felt a funny tightness in my chest. I couldn't say for certain that it was jealousy; it was more like the knowledge that this was a door that was now closed to me forever, and it wasn't closed entirely by my own hand. Sure, I'd decided that trying to compete with Quinn's family and his job weren't worth the bother, but I guess there was a part of me that was keeping him there, in reserve, in case.

But there was none of that now. And even if things changed, if he left Tie and arrived on my doorstep with a suitcase professing his eternal love and adoration, it would never be the same. He'd always have his daughter, and one more person who counted on him absolutely, the same way his mother and his sister always expected him to run to their aide.

It wasn't that I wanted to be put on a pedestal, but I didn't want to come last in line either, to have to wait until my man was done with everything and everyone else before he could spend a little time with me.

No, this was the end of the line for me and John Quinn.

"I'm real happy for you, Quinn." I gave him a smile and handed the phone back.

"Are you?" Quinn asked, and then he shook his head. "Sorry, I just mean. Well, I'd always hoped that you'd reconsider things and maybe see fit to take me back. I thought we might end up together."

"But you were hardly waiting around for me, were you?" I asked, gently.

"No. No, guess I wasn't." Quinn gave me a rueful smile. "You're a hard woman to forget, Sookie Stackhouse."

And though I might sometimes wish that wasn't the case, especially when it came to Bill, it was still nice to hear that I wasn't the only one feeling a little wistful about what might have been between me and Quinn.

"We just weren't meant to be," I said.

Quinn shrugged. "I don't buy that. If you want it, you want it plain and simple. Guess we just didn't want it enough."

He was right, of course. We hadn't. If one of us had fought harder then maybe…but wasting too much time on these kinds of regrets was a fruitless exercise. "I better get back to work. You enjoy your burger." I stood up.

"Sookie?" Quinn asked, and I turned back. "You are doing all right, aren't you? I mean…you like working here? They're good people?"

I was kind of touched at Quinn's concern, although not certain if I'd file Eric under the category 'good people'.

"It's, uh…you know, it's been better than I expected. Now I'm used to the work, I find I quite enjoy it." The words were out of my mouth before I really thought about them, and I was a little stunned. Did I really like being a waitress in a bar all that much?

I thought about it. Turns out I did.

"That's good Sookie. You're someone who deserves to be happy."

"Thanks, Quinn. You too. And you take care of that family of yours." I walked off to check on my other customers under Dawn's watchful glare. "You know, you spend all that time socialising, Sookie, and it makes it harder on the rest of us. I ain't had time to talk to Eric yet."

"No. Well, I'm sorry about that Dawn. I really think he'll like your idea." Maybe I was still a little buoyed up by the fact of Quinn's concern for me, but I was feeling quite a bond with my fellow waitresses right at that moment. I gave Dawn a big smile and a pat on the arm to show her that.

"I really don't understand what your game is," Dawn muttered, and she moved on before I could explain that it wasn't a game at all. Not to me. I think I'd finally realised how at home I felt here, amongst the people I'd grown up with.

I moved around my other tables, taking orders and bringing back drinks and food and the occasional check. Most people seemed to approve of the new TV set and I noticed it made some of the men stay a little longer and buy another drink. I made a note to mention that to Dawn so she could use it when she went to Eric with her idea for the change in the seating arrangement.

And then I noticed that Quinn had finished, so I took him over his check. "Thanks, babe," he said, and though I probably should have chided him for the familiarity, I didn't. I was just feeling too darned happy with the world right about then.

He pulled out some notes and pushed them towards me. "I'll go get your change," I said, but Quinn shook his head. "No. You keep it. Put me down as a generous tipper."

"All right. Will we be seeing you here again, then?"

"Maybe. I nearly didn't stop tonight, thought this place had closed down a while back. But I was on my way to Shreveport and saw the lights."

"It's the word Redneck that's hard to miss." I gestured to where it was also written across my chest and Quinn laughed as he stood up.

"It sure is," he agreed.

There was an awkward moment where we both searched for what to say next. "Well, I hope you do stop in. And you should bring…" I realised I couldn't remember his baby's name. "…the family sometime. I'd love to meet them."

"Yeah," Quinn rubbed the back of his neck and looked thoughtful. "Well, maybe."

"And you take care of yourself. Make sure you eat properly. I know what you're like on the road."

"Yes, ma'am." Quinn stepped forward and so did I and then he pulled me to him in a hug. It was a good hug, but a goodbye hug all the same. I doubted I'd see Quinn in here again, thought it unlikely I'd ever meet his beautiful girlfriend or his tiny daughter, but I was OK with that. We'd had our moment, and it had passed now.

"Goodbye, Sookie," Quinn said into my hair.

"Goodbye, Quinn." He released me and walked off out of the bar and into the night. And then behind me Eric's voice said, in tones that could best be described as icy, "Sookie. May I have a word with you in my office?"

I was pretty sure that, if you looked it up, this was the definition of an 'oh shit moment'. My heart sank as I turned around, only to see Eric's back walking towards the door that lead to his office.

Under Dawn's rather angry-looking gaze, I put Quinn's check and cash in my apron pocket to deal with later, walked to the bar and stowed my tray and notepad, and followed Eric, feeling like a prisoner walking to my certain doom.

Eric was already sitting at his desk when I arrived at the office door. He looked about as large and imposing as he possibly could. I hesitated, unsure whether to close the door behind me, or leave it open so someone could hear me scream.

"Come in," Eric said. He still sounded icy, but managed to throw in a hint of benevolence, like he was the local lord showing mercy on some poor serf.

Somehow that moved me a little from resigned weariness to mild annoyance. I knew he was my boss, but did he really have to order me around and have me trailing through the bar after him?

I stepped further into the office, leaving the door open. "What is it you need, Eric?" I asked, as sweetly as I could.

"I just wanted to have a talk with you," he said, sounding a little like a school principal.

"About?" I prompted.

Eric looked thoughtful, and placed his elbows on the desk, and then pressed his fingertips together, making the church steeple from the children's game. The effect was of a man deep in thought. "About…well. Appropriate behaviour. And boundaries."

"OK." I wondered if this was his response to my little speech telling him we were never going to have a relationship.

But my wondering was wandering totally down the wrong path. "I think it's nice that you're, well, friendly with many of the customers. Some of them, like that lush who's usually at the bar, really seem to enjoy seeing you in here. But at the end of the day, Sookie, they are customers."

"Well…yes…"

"So please. No more hugging."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Please don't hug people. In the bar."

"Hug...people?"

"Yes. I think there need to be limits on how we interact with customers." Eric's voice sounded even, but I could hear the undercurrent of pure annoyance. He was holding himself back, that much was obvious.

Well, wasn't that so gosh-darned _nice_ of him?

"Eric, I'm not really sure why you've brought me out here to talk about this."

"Well. I think it needed discussing."

"I fail to see that it's any of your business." My own annoyance was boiling over now.

"You are my employee." Eric acted like that was the end of the discussion and he'd made a fair and valid point. I just stood there catching flies. OK. Good to know where I stood.

"You're right Eric, I am. But that doesn't give you any right to poke your nose into how I act around my friends."

"I think it does. And we are not talking about friends; we are talking about the customers. Male customers." Eric's voice was louder now, and he was leaning forward over the desk.

"Are we? Good to know. Because I hugged my friend Claudine earlier too. She was a customer. I guess that's allowed then, given she's female, and therefore not the competition."

"Competition?" Eric spat that out. "I think you have misunderstood the point of this conversation Sookie."

"Oh no, I think I've got it. I'm pretty smart, remember? You said that much to Bill."

"Did I? Maybe you should call him up and check. And hug him while you are at it." Eric had given up all pretence that we were talking normally, and he was shouting. That was no problem. I was more than happy to shout back.

"Well, maybe I should. And maybe you should remember that you have _no _right to tell me who I can and cannot hug."

"I don't? And yet you kissed me, Sookie. In here, just two nights ago."

"I did. I did kiss you, Eric. But that was my mistake. Because really, what good did that do me? You're busy with the bar, aren't you? You don't really have time for me. You didn't deny that the last time I said it, and you're not contradicting me now. Go on, Eric. Say something to that. Say something to make me see things differently. Yeah, that's right, buddy. You've got nothin'!" I had now leaned right over Eric's desk and we were eye to eye. Well we would have been if Eric wasn't so busy watching the finger I was using to point at him as I made my argument.

"Buddy?" Eric asked. "Buddy? I think you are forgetting who you are talking to, Sookie."

"Oh no. I know exactly who I'm talking to. Eric Northman the biggest…" But before I could enlighten Eric as to just what I thought of him, we were interrupted.

"I knew that if I left you two together for long enough you'd either fuck each other, or kill each other. My money was on the former, but I guess you two have settled on the latter." Pam dropped her purse and looked from me to Eric and back again.

"Pam. This does not need your input." Eric sounded pretty certain of that.

"Well, hello to you too, Eric. Yes, it's lovely to be back. Slightly less lovely seeing the two of you going at it hammer and tongs, but you can't have everything I suppose."

"It is great you're back, Pam," I said, in an attempt to smooth things over. "Place hasn't been the same without you."

"Oh, I can tell." Pam sounded a little fed up when she said that.

"Pam, do you have a point to make?" Eric asked. Pam didn't seem to like that, because she whirled around and looked at him and her pale blue eyes were blazing.

"You know, I do have a point to make Eric. And my point is this. You are a fucking idiot. And you…" she looked at me,"…are not getting off scot-free either. For God's sake, stop pissing about pretending that you're not interested in each other."

"Pamela," Eric said, and his voice was a deep rumble, laced with warning. "This is really none of your business."

"Nope, it's not," Pam said, waving her hand around for emphasis. "It's no one else's business, except that I think half the bar could hear you two and Long Shadow's been in the corridor for a very long time making sure he's heard every detail. I think if you're trying for discretion, you suck at it."

Oh, that was a sobering thought. Long Shadow had enough ideas about me already without overhearing Eric trying to warn me away from the male customers. It seemed like I wasn't destined to get a break.

"So you think you can just waltz in here and tell me what to do?" Eric asked Pam. He seemed genuinely perplexed, if still a little angry, at her interference.

"You know what, I do. After all I've fucking been through, Eric, I really do. I'm sorry if I don't want to see my friends piss their lives away, but when you're standing here, in my fucking shoes, maybe you'll understand. In the meantime, you go back to shouting at Sookie. Being an arsehole seems to make you happy, so you have at it." Pam whirled around and left the office, leaving Eric and I looking at an empty doorway.

There was silence for a moment. All the fight seemed to have drained out of me, and I guessed Eric felt the same. "I'll…" I started, but I gave up. I walked out in search of Pam.

She was in the storeroom, pacing, when I got to her. "Pam, uh, are you OK?"

"Bloody brilliant, Sookie. As you can tell." She swiped at an eye and took a big breath in. "Travelling doesn't agree with me. I'll be fine when I've calmed down. And when Eric's calmed down, which will probably be in about twenty years from now, I'll go in and talk to him."

"OK, well…can I do anything?" I was more than a little worried about Pam. From what I'd seen of her, she was normally a fairly calm and controlled person. I wasn't sure what to make of her outburst in Eric's office.

"No, Sookie. I will be fine…I just, I did mean it. That you shouldn't waste your time arguing…"

"When we could be fucking?"

Pam smiled. "When you could be happier, whatever it is you want to do. Life is just too fucking short." She started at the shelves lining the wall and seemed lost in her own thoughts.

"Pam? What did you mean back there? When you said after all you'd been through? Are you…is everything OK?" I knew it was a fine line between being concerned about a friend and prying into all the little details of their life. I hoped I was walking on the right side of it.

"Oh, nothing." Pam waved me away airily.

I suspected it wasn't nothing, and Jane's words about Pam suddenly sprang to mind. Had Jane been right?

"Pam, are you sure?"

Pam let out a big sigh. "Look, tonight is not the time to go into it all, Sookie. I'm far too wound up already. But tomorrow, tomorrow we'll talk and I'll tell you where I've been."

"OK. Well, I better get back to work then. After all, I am one of the employees." I gave Pam a little smile, and she almost managed to smile back.

"Yes. I suppose you should."

"So…I'll see you tomorrow, then?"

"That's if Eric hasn't barred me, although I'm fairly certain I could take Long Shadow if he does."

"I have faith in you Pam." I started to walk out of the storeroom.

"As I have faith in you too, Sookie. And sometimes, just sometimes when I'm feeling recklessly optimistic, I almost have faith in Eric not to be too much of an arsehole."

"He's lucky to have you, Pam."

"Well, you convince him of that. I suspect that he sees things quite differently at the moment." She rolled her eyes.

"Oh, my powers of persuasion do not work on Eric." Nor did my powers of shouting, pointing or generally trying to out-angry him.

"Sookie, if you genuinely think that, then there really is no hope for you. Now, get back to work before the boss finds you back here and yells at you. Oh wait, you've already done that." Pam laughed a little, and I joined in. There wasn't much else left to do. Except go back to work.

So I did that. And I tried very hard not to think about Eric.

I failed.

**Thanks for reading!**


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N Hello! Long time, no see. Yeah, so life has been busy and this has taken me a lot longer than I planned. So a big thank you for remembering this story and bothering to turn up again.**

**Disclaimer: Not mine.**

The next night I was certainly persona non grata with Dawn. "You always ruin it for me," she complained.

"I didn't upset him deliberately." I briefly considered throwing Pam under the bus and blaming her for what had happened, but that didn't seem fair when she'd walked in on the shouting match. Joining in the shouting match had perhaps not been her smartest move, but she wasn't the worst culprit out of the three of us.

No, the worst culprit would be the person who had decided to institute new rules about hugging that only applied to me.

"Well what do you call flaunting other men in his face all the time? I tried to tell you that it wasn't gonna work, and now it's gone and backfired on you and I'm stuck paying the price too. Way to be selfish, Sookie."

"Aw, leave Sookie alone. She's been having a tough time of it," Ginger said.

"What about me?" Dawn demanded. "Before she got here things were a lot better. Now she spends all her time upsetting Eric."

"Well, I don't know what upset Long Shadow, but he ain't even here yet," Lafayette threw in. He'd come over to where we were doing our prep work in the hope of some gossip I guessed, as if there wasn't enough to gossip about after everyone heard Eric and I shouting the night before.

"Eric upset Long Shadow, because Sookie upset Eric," Dawn said, with a great deal of conviction. It was nice to see how willing she was to lay everything at my feet.

"Or it could be his dad again…what's his name?" Ginger mused. "Something about water?"

She looked thoughtful for a moment, her head cocked to one side, and then she suddenly said "Hot Rain!" at the same time that Dawn said "I don't know and I don't care."

"Hope he ain't got outta the nursing home again," Ginger continued, as she filled another salt shaker. "He's got that, what is it? Early demented? Keeps runnin' off. Long Shadow's gotta pay for a real expensive place for him to stay and he still breaks out from time to time, gets himself into all sorts of trouble."

"How'd you know that?" Lafayette asked Ginger, and she shrugged. "I just do. He talks to me, says he gotta talk to someone."

There was silence for a moment while we all contemplated the fact of Long Shadow not only having a family but also family problems. For some reason I never really thought of him as having a life outside of the bar, he was such a constant, if slightly menacing, presence here.

"Well, he used to talk to me more before…you know. When this was Victor's place."

"What was Victor like?" I asked, curious about the owner who'd left Bon Temps but who still had the bar named after him. I'd heard the rumours that he wasn't much appreciated in these parts, but I'd never come across the man myself.

"Not like Eric," Ginger said hurriedly. "It was sure different when he owned the bar."

Lafayette shuddered a little. "I don't wanna speak ill of the departed, but that man was the worst thing to ever happen to this place." He turned and walked back to the kitchen.

"He's dead?" Dawn asked. "I thought he just moved?"

"Yep," Ginger confirmed. "Vegas. But Lafayette don't like him and never has. Think he's a little hopeful about Victor's final resting place."

The door swung open and Long Shadow appeared in front of us, eyeing what we were doing. "You all set up?" he asked.

"Just about," Ginger replied, while I tried not to ponder too hard where Long Shadow might have been. He looked disgruntled and I decided I didn't want to know if it was because we were slow setting up, Eric had yelled at him again, or something had happened with the dad I'd only just discovered Long Shadow was responsible for. I was curious about that, but not about to ask him.

I didn't think he'd really be interested in my questions, anyway. "You not back there a antagonising the boss again, Blondie?" he asked, as his opening. "That was sure entertaining. Whole reason I come to work tonight."

Well, two could play at that game. "Must be nice, mustn't it Ginger? To have a job where you have nothing to do but stand around and worry about what other people are doing?" Ginger gave me a look that suggested she had no desire to get involved, before she lifted her tray and walked off.

"I sometimes wonder what it's like to get so many visitors at work. You know, friends, family, exes all droppin' on by every night. That sure must be nice," Dawn said, taking the opportunity to have another dig at me. Long Shadow stood and watched us both and though my inclination was to put my head down and pretend he couldn't see me, I didn't. After all, that hadn't stopped him before, had it? Instead I met his gaze and I watched, and I waited for him to say something else. He didn't though, and eventually he went off to start checking supplies behind the bar.

Long Shadow managed to hold his tongue until the first time we were alone, when I went over to drop in Terry Bellefleur's order for one beer. "You think you're pretty special, don'cha? Now you got him twisting in the wind? It don't work with me, Blondie. I got your number."

I gave him a long, hard look. "Just give me the damn beer, Long Shadow."

"Maybe you should say please? Maybe you should be nice to me, like you're nice to Eric? Maybe you should realise that around here you're the bottom of the heap, Blondie, and you ain't gonna get shit unless I say so?" Long Shadow was now leaning over the bar, his face close to mine. I was getting more than a little annoyed at his constant insinuations that I was somehow trying to trap Eric and didn't really care any longer if his bad behaviour did stem from problems with a sick father. It was still bad behaviour, and I was still sick of it being directed at me when I'd done nothing to him in the first place. I could feel myself getting hotter in the face as I fumed with the indignation of everything Long Shadow was putting my way.

But before I could summon a retort, Pam appeared at my elbow. "Now, this looks very cosy," she said, hoisting herself onto a barstool and then smoothing down her skirt, which was a very pretty lilac check, with a ruffle stitched right around the hem. I was actually grateful for Pam for giving me something else to focus on for a moment so I could let the rage I was feeling subside.

When I had turned into such an angry person? When I'd worked at Herveaux's I'd prided myself on how calm I was, even in the face of Jannalynn's less than winning personality, or Arlene's desire to avoid as many tasks as possible. I smiled, I laughed; I was the girl in the office everyone wanted to talk to.

Now I was a hell-cat carrying a tray that she might at any moment ram into someone's skull.

Clearly, I needed a night off.

"So, Sookie. I'll see you when you have your break?" Pam asked me.

"Oh. Um, yeah. Sure." Wrapped up as I was in my little feud with Long Shadow, I'd temporarily forgotten Pam's promise to talk to me that evening.

Long Shadow set Terry's beer down in front of me with a resounding thud. "You can't have a long break. It's Saturday night. Busy."

"I don't think it's going to be that busy," Pam said, looking around. As much as I wanted to have a nice, long catch-up with her, I hoped she was wrong in her assessment.

I loaded the beer onto my tray. "Well, see you later on then, Pam."

"You will. Although I think I might need a good, stiff drink first." She looked expectantly at Long Shadow, who leered unattractively.

"I can help you out with a good, stiff something," he offered and Pam waved him away with a hand.

"I've made better men than you wilt," she said. "What I really need is some scotch."

Long Shadow glared at Pam and then glared at me again, before turning to grab a bottle from the shelf. Pam ignored him and looked around the bar at the few customers who were in. I decided to take my leave and get the beer to Terry.

"How's Annie?" I asked him, as I placed the beer on a napkin on his table. Annie was his prized Catahoula hunting dog.

Terry nodded five or six times, but didn't speak. "She's good," he finally managed. "Well, better now."

"That's great news," I said, and I left Terry in peace. I checked my tables and I glanced at the door to the back once or maybe twice, during that time. I wasn't so much watching for Eric as just keeping an eye on things, because you never knew what might happen.

Nothing happened though. Well nothing other than Jason and Hoyt arriving and demanding immediate service, Dawn glaring at me as I delivered their drinks to them, and Ginger nearly tipping a whole tray of drinks on Dawn when Dawn was too busy watching me and not busy enough watching where she was going.

I guess it paid to keep your eyes on your job.

So it was a good thing that I was.

Mostly.

Before I knew it, though, Ginger was tapping me on the shoulder as I was grabbing some cutlery for a couple sitting in my section.

"I'm back, hon. So it's your turn."

"Oh. OK. I just better get these to table five." I held up the knives and forks I was holding.

"Don't worry. I'll do it…now; they're just…um…"

"Over there," I said, pointing to the table. "I think their food will be up in a minute.

"OK. No problem. Looks like your date's waiting for you down in the back booth." For a minute I panicked slightly and looked at the back corner of the bar expecting to see Eric. But he wasn't there, Pam was. Of course. Pam.

"Yep," I said, as Ginger gave me an odd look. "She is."

I put my tray away and walked over to Pam's table and sat down. She was nursing another drink now, turning the glass around in her hands.

"You OK?" I asked her.

"Not really. But I'll live."

I couldn't exactly say that Pam sounded all that thrilled about that fact. She didn't add anything else, so I continued on. "How was your trip back…home?" I wasn't sure if that was the right term.

"New York. Not really home. Not anymore. And it went as well as could be expected, I suppose." Pam sighed and sat back in her chair. "I had to help a…friend. He didn't really want my help. Sometimes people just don't like what you have to say." Pam looked at me and I wondered whether that was a reference to the lesson she'd been trying to impart to Eric and I the previous night.

"Well. I guess that's part of being a good friend sometimes," I ventured.

"Then I could happily give up being a good friend." Pam looked away. "Except that I can't because I promised her."

Pam now seemed to be having a conversation about people I'd never met and which I had no way of contributing to. I resolved to stay silent and see whether she included me anytime soon.

Pam seemed to realise that I was waiting for her to elaborate. "I had to go and help a friend who was having a tough time because he lost someone. He's not really coping."

"Oh. That's awful. I'm sure he's glad he has you though."

"Yes. Maybe not so much when I was trying to get him admitted to rehab. Then he said a few choice words describing what he thought about me."

"Maybe that's something you don't appreciate until later on."

"I'm not sure he ever will, but at least my conscience is clear. I couldn't let Immanuel spiral down again. He'd had problems in the past, when he was younger. This just tipped him over the edge." Pam blinked several times. "His sister died. She was only 31. Leukaemia."

"That would have been a terrible loss. I can…I can understand why that would be difficult for him." I was struggling to find the right words to express my sympathy for the loss suffered by someone I didn't know. "Did you know her?" I asked Pam.

She turned to me and her pale blue eyes were huge and glassy. "She was my wife, Sookie."

Oh. If I'd been struggling moments before to offer sympathetic wishes for a stranger, then this, trying to find the words I needed to express what I felt to my friend, was even harder. I simply didn't know what to say.

I reached across the table and took Pam's hand. "Tell me about her. About Miriam," I asked, as gently as I could.

"Well, she was beautiful. Of course. I mean, that's what I noticed first about her. How beautiful she was." Pam smiled a little at that. "But she was lovely on the inside too. Very creative, she was an artist, worked with textiles mostly. And she was funny, always interested in having fun. And we did. I had a lot of fun with Miriam. Before she got sick."

Pam paused, and I wondered if that was all I was going to get. "Was she sick for long?"

"Oh…yes and no. The leukaemia had come before…years ago. Before I knew her. I don't think she ever expected it would come back. I know I certainly wasn't thinking she'd get sick. I was too busy…too busy…"

I patted Pam's hand and just waited. Her face crumpled, but it was only for the briefest moment, and then she composed herself again. I watched Pam's features remake themselves and wondered at the strength it took for her to just sit here and share her tale.

"I wasn't looking for a commitment. I was more of a fling person. At least, I thought I was. But I found Miriam, and I thought that maybe she was worth more. I just wasn't sure that I was the person to give her that, to give her the life she deserved. And then she got sick. And I still wasn't sure."

Pam took a big gulp of her drink. "That's bloody awful stuff," she murmured.

"You must miss her a lot," I said to Pam. "Miriam."

"Oh, Sookie. You have no idea." I couldn't disagree with that statement. "I miss all the things I took for granted. I miss her kind eyes, and her clever hands, and her dirty laugh. I miss just being able to talk to her. I wish I could tell her about this place." Pam looked at me suddenly. "She would have liked you. You're alike, in a way."

"I'm sure I would have liked her too, Pam."

Pam sighed heavily. "At the end…it wasn't good. Not just Immanuel; their parents didn't cope very well either. They weren't helpful at all. Of course, they'd never liked me. Miriam was bisexual, you see. They always thought she'd choose right in the end and get herself the husband they wanted for her and that would be the end of me."

"But you got married anyway?"

"We did." Pam sounded resigned when she said that. "We did get married. And she changed her will, and I inherited her money. That complicated things even further. Her parents didn't think I should have it. It had come from her grandmother when Miriam was 21. And she left it all to me; with the proviso I do something mad with it."

"Mad?"

"Yes. You know. Madcap, I guess. She liked adventures. We had lots planned, she was always planning. 'When I get better…' she'd say, and she'd ramble on about going to Paris or Morocco or Bora Bora. But we didn't do any of that. We planned her funeral instead. I didn't want to plan it, but Miriam insisted." Pam sighed audibly, before continuing.

"She said no black. I wore my vintage Chanel suit. It's pink. Miriam loved me in that suit. But Miriam's parents were horrified and thought I was out of my tree. And then they didn't really know what to do with Immanuel when he couldn't cope. I used to ring him every night, just to check on him. But it was clear he couldn't do it alone. And when I mentioned it to them they suggested, although suggested is possibly a little too kind, that if he'd had the money he might not have had any problems. So now I'm paying for his rehab, which makes things a little tight, and doesn't really leave me anything left to put into this place."

"And this was your mad thing?" I asked, gesturing around the bar.

"Uh-huh. After all, what's more adventurous than opening a bar down here?" Pam threw her hands up with a shrug. I could think of a lot of things that were a lot more adventurous, but I didn't have Pam's perspective on it.

"So you gave Eric the money?" I wondered if that's why Eric was so worried about everything; his source of funds had dried up.

"Oh no. Most of it was Eric's, what he had left-over from his…well, his money. Mine is just a small investment, really. That's the thing, it wasn't that Miriam left me a lot, it was that she left me anything at all that pissed her parents off so much."

"Oh. OK." I wasn't sure how we'd moved from talking about Pam's bereavement to talking about her investment strategy. She seemed a lot more comfortable talking about the money, which showed how awful it was for her to talk about Miriam. I still felt like I needed to say something more on the subject though.

"Thanks for telling me about Miriam. I'm real glad that you did. And if you ever want to tell me anything else, then just holler. And…" I paused, hoping what I said next didn't come out like a vague condolence passed on at the funeral of someone you barely knew. "I'm sorry that you had to go through all of that, Pam. It doesn't change things, I know. Words are just words. But know that the meaning behind my words is that I'm your friend and I care about you."

"Oh, you Americans," Pam said. "You love to put it all out there, don't you?" For a moment I was stuck, thinking Pam hadn't at all appreciated my attempt at letting her know I cared about her, and I wished I could do something more to comfort her.

"Yep," I said, maybe a little too brightly. "No stiff upper lips around here!"

"Definitely not," Pam said, and then she stopped and looked serious all of a sudden. I didn't think that was such a good thing. I gave her hand one final pat, and then released it. The gesture seemed a little ineffectual, but I didn't see Pam as someone who really wanted to hug it out.

"And of course I don't want to wallow in it all," Pam said. "That wasn't the point of all of this…this…well, sharing." She made it sound like that was a dirty word somehow. Then she sighed again. "But I did mean some of what I said last night. You know there's a lot I regret, about my time with Miriam. I regret we didn't spend enough time together first and foremost. But the biggest regret I have, Sookie, you know what that is?" I shook my head to say I didn't.

"My biggest regret is that I didn't show her I wanted her as early as I should have. I thought…well I thought I didn't really know what I wanted. I thought that I had all the time in the word to decide. But then Miriam got sick, and I still wasn't sure, and I didn't want to rush into anything just because she was sick. That didn't seem fair to her at all."

"Well…no…" I agreed.

"But neither was waiting until we knew what the outcome would be. Because, and this is the most important part, Sookie, because I know that Miriam went to her grave thinking I only asked her marry me because she was dying, and I took pity on her. But really…" Pam's voice broke a little and she took a sharp intake of breath. "Really I asked her because I wanted her to be mine, and I hadn't realised how much I wanted it. Until I was going to lose her. And that's the part that kills me, that she never knew that our marriage had nothing to do with the sickness, and everything to do with how much I loved her." Pam spat those last few words out vehemently and jammed her index finger into the table several times for emphasis.

Well that explained a lot about Pam's outburst the night before. I suspected it had very little to do with Eric and me, and a lot to do with Pam's feelings for Miriam. I didn't think that declaring my everlasting devotion to Eric Northman was going to bring Miriam back, or even probably make Pam feel as though something good had come out of what she'd been through.

No, really that was Pam's pain and I couldn't wave a magic wand and make it disappear. All I could do was sit and listen and hope that helped a little. I stood up from my chair and moved around the table before hugging Pam where she sat.

"Oh, lord Sookie. I'm not the one who needs a hug."

"I think you are," I said.

"Phfft. I'm OK. And anyway, how are you?" Pam clearly wanted to change the subject, and I was OK with that.

"Me. I'm fine." Maybe though, I'd be a little more OK with it if she didn't want to change the subject to me.

"Really? Because I heard you got your face all banged up."

I slid back down into my chair again. "Oh. Uh. It wasn't as bad as all of that." I laughed a little. "Although I am going to break up with that cupboard, I can't stay around someone who'll do that to me!"

Pam frowned slightly. "No. I mean. You got beaten up in the carpark. Eric said." She spoke the words a little slowly, as though maybe I'd taken a knock to the head as well and needed reminding.

"Oh…yeah, yeah. It was…well. I'm fine, you know."

Pam raised an eyebrow at me, slightly calling me out. I shrugged and put my hands out in front of me, palms up. What did she expect me to say?

I guessed we'd somehow devolved into an entirely silent conversation. I wondered if Long Shadow was as good at reading body language as he was at eavesdropping. If so, this could be the highlight of his evening.

"I didn't…I mean," I started to say. "I'm just surprised you heard, is all."

"Eric told me what happened."

"He did?" That sounded completely unlike the Eric who wanted to keep the whole thing under wraps. "I thought we weren't talking about it because he didn't want the news getting out to the customers."

"Well, you can't blame him for that. But it doesn't mean he wasn't, uh…worried about it…about you. There was an email and everything."

"Oh." That sounded less personal somehow, Eric just sending an email to his business partner to update them on the latest events around the bar.

"Mmm" Pam said, nodding. "And Eric hates emails. He hates sending them anyway. Unless it's life or death. I think this one had three sentences and everything. Hang on, I'll show you." She reached over for the phone she had placed on the table next to her drink and pressed it a few times. "Yes, here we are. Three sentences _and_ swearing. I think he was a little upset."

Pam handed me her phone and I read what was on the screen. _Sookie mugged in parking lot. OK just bruised. Fucking Louisiana._

I wasn't sure whether it was a good or a bad thing that Eric seemed to be blaming the entire state for what had happened to me. I read the email a second time, trying to glean something more out of it, but, as far as I could tell, it was what it was. Three lines to Pam saying what had happened and ending with a complaint which wasn't so much about what had happened to me, as it was about Eric disliking the environment he'd found himself in.

"OK," I said, shrugging and handing the phone back to her.

"I'm not sure you do," Pam said slowly, reaching for the phone but keeping her eyes on me.

"Well…," I trailed off, unsure of what to say. Did I need to defend the fact I didn't think the email proved as much as Pam thought it did? Or was it up to her to produce something more concrete as evidence of this mythical torch Eric was supposed to be carrying for me? Maybe the torch was all in Pam's head, like the Viking helmet she'd conjured up once before? Maybe she was lonely and grieving and trying to push me into the arms of Eric was a way to try to salve her own guilt over Miriam?

Maybe I was taking too much time trying to work out Pam's motivations and she was looking at me oddly now?

"I mean. It's an email…mostly…" I stopped again, and gathered my thoughts while Pam waited as patiently as she could, which didn't seem to be all that patiently. "Truth be told, I don't know what to think. Sometimes he says things that make me think he actually likes me, sometimes he seems more interested in whether I might accidentally bleed on his car or how fast I can check off some invoices. And then comes the part where I get yelled at for talking to my friends." I shrugged again. Who could really know what went on in the mind of Eric Northman?

"And on that note," I continued, "I had better get back to work before the big bad boss comes out and tells me off for hugging you."

Pam waved a hand airily. "Oh, Eric knows he has nothing to worry about from me. I mean, if I really turned on the charm, then he'd stand no chance." Pam winked at me, as I stood up from my seat.

At least Pam's grief about Miriam hadn't knocked her confidence at all. It may have been bravado on her part, but there were worse things she could do to get by, I figured.

"Well, you are pretty irresistible," I agreed.

"Shush, Sookie. Let Eric think he still stands a chance." Pam laughed a little, and then stopped, abruptly. "Because he does, doesn't he?"

"At this point Pam, I couldn't really tell you. And anyway, doesn't it worry him that you're trying to pimp him out?"

"Not particularly. Eric has other things to worry about." Pam looked down and pressed her lips together as though she was holding things back. "OK, back to work with you then. Chop, chop!"

"Yes. You take care, Pam."

"Me? I'm fabulous, Sookie. Just blooming. And now, I'm going to go and hang out with my good friend Jane over there."

I looked at the bar and Jane was indeed perched on a stool making her way very quickly through her first beer of the evening.

"Great, well you two gals have fun."

"We always do." Pam nodded emphatically at that and I took my leave.

I retrieved my tray and my notepad, checked in with Ginger about my customers, and let Dawn know that she was free to take her break now. "Finally!" she replied, before she stomped off out the back.

I set about my work, but although my body was fulfilling all the waitressing functions that it had to, my mind was elsewhere. I went over everything Pam and I had talked about several times, and, when I'd done that, I was no closer to figuring out what I needed to do about Eric, or even if I needed to do anything. He didn't exactly seem to be interested in me and I hadn't even seen him that night. For all I knew he wasn't sitting back there in his office, he was out on the town somewhere, with someone else.

Or maybe he'd high-tailed it back to a state he liked more? One that wasn't filled with quite so many pesky Southerners.

I was so lost in my own thoughts that even Terry had to ask me if I was OK, after I nearly missed him calling me over so he could order another beer. And at least that was what I brought him back from the bar. A party from the Norcross plant weren't so lucky and ended up with a round of bourbons after they'd ordered a pitcher of beer.

"That's gotta come outta your wages," Long Shadow informed me, when I returned the unwanted drinks.

"Yeah. OK." I couldn't even muster up any indignation about that. It had been my own fault after all.

"Isn't it great to have Pam back?" Jane asked me, as I was about to leave with the pitcher Long Shadow had grudgingly filled while continuing to lecture me on the importance of getting my orders correct.

"Sure is," I agreed, heading back to my customers and resolving to, well, be more like Jane. I was just going to focus on the positives. I had a job, I kind of liked my job, I was fit and well and I had friends.

So I had no reason to be all melancholy and introspective. Really, I just needed to get on with my night and surely I was due having something really happen to me real soon.

Except that nothing did happen right then. Eric came out from the back and had a discussion with Long Shadow which didn't seem to be too friendly, and involved both of them looking over at me from time to time. I had no doubt that Long Shadow was updating Eric about just how incompetent a waitress I was.

"Sook! Can you move your butt; you're blocking my view of the TV!"

Clearly Jason didn't think much of my skills as a waitress either. At least, not as a waitress who could be as unobtrusive as possible while delivering his beer.

"You know it's all very well havin' the TV, but you can't ever see the damn thing what with everyone getting in the goddamn way all the time," Jason complained. "If it ain't you, it's Dawn, always hovering in my view."

"I like Dawn," Hoyt said, and Jason shot him a filthy look. "There ain't nothing wrong with Dawn _per se_," Jason continued. "But jeez, she does like to just stand around right where it's most inconvenient for me." Jason took a big gulp of beer as though he'd made his point.

I left Jason and Hoyt's table lest I be accused of being more of a hindrance to their TV viewing than I already had been, and I circled through my tables checking whether my customers needed anything. I had a few drink orders which I took to the bar. Eric had disappeared out the back now and I was faced with Long Shadow, who merely asked me, repeatedly, if I was certain I had these orders correct.

Pam had moved away from the bar too now, so I didn't stay for long, despite Jane's insistent reminders that I pass on her best wishes to Gran when I next saw her. In the end I had to promise that I would, and Jane nodded happily, probably feeling that she'd fulfilled her neighbourly duty.

I wondered what it must be like to live in such a befuddled fog all the time. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to adopt Jane's take on things. Maybe I needed to be a little more focussed on what I really wanted.

If I only knew that.

Tara and JB turned up at the bar and sat down in my section. "What I really want," Tara said, before I'd even had a chance to ask them, "are fried pickles. Lots and lots of fried pickles. With ketchup."

"OK…and anything to drink?"

JB took this one. "Two beers," he said, and then he visible faltered and looked at Tara. "Uh…uh, um...no…" he stammered. "Um, I'll have a beer and Tara wants a Diet Coke. Because…uh, she's, um…watching her weight." He finished up with a smile directed at Tara which disappeared rapidly when it met her frown.

"I can't have that sweetener stuff," she spat out. "So I'll have a regular Coke. With the ice in a separate glass." She let out a big sigh. "And it's OK JB, Sookie knows. We're not keeping it a secret anymore anyway."

"Yeah. OK, sure," JB said, nodding solemnly. And then he broke out into a big grin. "It's pretty nice being able to tell people," he said.

"Yep. Because now, people don't think I'm just fat and wonder why I'm not dieting," Tara said, a little bitterly.

JB looked at her in surprise. "But you're not fat. I don't think you're fat."

"That's because you knew the reason. Other people probably thought I was sitting at home on my fat ass eating cookies all day."

JB sighed in resignation. I got the impression this was an argument they'd had before, and one which he knew he'd never win.

"OK, I'll go put the order in then." I turned to leave the table, but Tara called me back. "Better order two baskets of pickles, Sookie. JB's said he wants some too." I half-expected her to burst into laughter at that, but she didn't. Clearly, at this point in time, fried pickles were very important to Tara.

I decided not to mess with that.

After Tara and JB's orders had been placed I glanced around the bar again. It was busy, sure, but there still seemed to be almost as many empty tables as there were ones full of customers. The TV might have brought in a few more people, but it hadn't filled the bar to capacity by any means.

I wondered if Dawn's idea for the new section might be part of what the bar was missing. And I realised that if Pam's confession had taught me anything, it was that I needed to make the most of every opportunity I had.

I took Tara and JB's drinks over to them, and pretended I didn't see Tara merely tip the ice from its separate glass into her Coke after I had had to endure Long Shadow's annoyance at being asked to serve her drink that way. And then, when their food was ready I took that over too. I could tell that Tara had hoped I might stop to chat a while, but that was the moment Eric picked to emerge once again into the bar and I wanted to catch up to him before he returned to lurking in the dark recesses of the building.

I was a woman with a mission.

"Eric!" I said, a little louder than I would have liked, as it made Long Shadow turn in my direction too. I could see him smirking out of the corner of my eye, but I ignored him.

Eric's eyebrows knit together in a frown as I approached him. If he was worried, though, that I might be about to pick up where I'd left off berating him the night before, he didn't show it. "Sookie," he said, smoothly, and with the ghost of a smile, as though there were points for being able to match the correct waitress to the correct name.

Well, it hadn't been my idea to dress us all in identical t-shirts.

"I need to see you," I said, being careful to keep the volume of my voice as low as possible, while still remaining audible to Eric's ears. I did not need Long Shadow over-hearing our conversation. "After we close?"

Eric's smile grew broader; now he looked like the cat that'd caught the proverbial canary. "Of course. In my office." He didn't even have the decency to make that last sentence a question, so certain he was that I was about to come crawling to him begging him to take me on even though I'd demonstrated such poor judgement as to actually hug people who weren't Eric-approved.

"No," I said, and Eric's smile faltered slightly. "Out here. In the bar."

Eric's smile dropped away entirely. "Out here?"

"Yes. And not just because I want witnesses this time."

"You think I might do something to you?" Eric asked, looking a little unsure as to whether he should smile at that, or not.

But now it was my turn to smile, and I did. Broadly. "Oh, I don't think they'd be for my protection, Eric." I held up my tray and waggled it slightly from side to side. "But there's a whole other reason I want you."

I stopped, pleased with myself, and then ran that last part over in my head. Eric smiled at me, having realised what I'd said a little quicker than I had. Dammit, and I'd been doing so well at keeping him at arm's length.

"Why I want to talk to you," I added. "Out here. In the bar. After work."

"OK. I think I can probably manage that," Eric said, his smile firmly back in place. I turned on my heel and walked off before I dug a deeper hole for myself.

Wanting to look like I had a purpose, in case Eric was still watching, I marched straight back to Tara and JB's table. "Is everything OK with your…uh, snack?" I asked them.

"Yeah…" Tara said slowly. "I don't know what your cook did to them, but I've got heartburn something awful now." She patted her chest as though that might ease the symptoms and gave the now empty basket the pickles had been served in annoyed glance.

"You know, if you didn't eat them quite so fast, you'd probably not get that," JB said, with the air of someone who was trying to give some sage advice. I didn't think it was advice that Tara wanted to hear.

I decided to change the subject before things got nasty and words got said. "So…you comin' to the next class on Wednesday?" I asked Tara.

"Well, I think so." She didn't sound sure. "Say, weird thing. I ran into Halleigh Bellefleur at the doctor's office, she was the appointment before me when I went in yesterday, and she was asking me about burlesque. She was real interested in it, and I said she should maybe give it a try…you know, after she has her baby. I think she's only got about two weeks' to go now until she's due. Anyway, she gave me this funny look, and said that Andy wouldn't like her doing it. I didn't think she was that much under Andy's control."

I shrugged. I had no idea how Andy and Halleigh's marriage worked. Halleigh had always been pleasant enough to me, far more pleasant than the members of the family she'd married into, but I guessed she couldn't help taking on some of their views.

"It's just dancin'" JB threw in, but Tara ignored him.

"The oddest part of it all was the way she said it," she continued. "Like, it wasn't the fact it was burlesque that was the problem, but Claudine. Because she said that Andy wouldn't like her learnin' from a person like that. I had no idea what that was supposed to mean. But then she got called in, and I went in right after. Everything's good, by the way. Baby's doing real well." She gave JB a fond look when she said that, and I mentally kicked myself for not asking more about the pregnancy and the baby.

Truth be told though, I didn't find it all that interesting. What I did find interesting was Halleigh's views on Claudine.

"Well, that's real good news," I said. "But awfully odd that Halleigh thinks Claudine is…" I let that hang. I wasn't sure what she could have thought.

"I got the impression," Tara said, conspiratorially. "That she thought she had some other job, or something?"

"Oh. Claudine's a personal shopper. At Dillard's in Monroe."

"Really? That doesn't sound that bad; I'd like a job like that." Tara paused, probably mourning the loss of her dress shop. "But maybe if you're a Bellefleur? Selling stuff and all of that?" Tara didn't sound all that sure about that idea, and she looked to me, as the resident Bellefleur expert, for confirmation.

I didn't think it sounded all that right, either. They could be terrible snobs, but I couldn't imagine that they had started seeing personal shoppers as a class below them.

Although, on second thoughts, who could tell with Portia? She had some odd ideas at times.

So I nodded, as though I agreed, and then I said I'd check back in with them before they left.

"Hurry up and eat, JB," Tara admonished, as I walked away. "I'm about dead on my feet and I want to get home."

After Tara and JB left the rest of the night passed quickly. And I was mostly focussed on my new plan, anyway. I told Dawn when we both arrived at the hatch to the kitchen to collect some food orders.

"What?" she asked, screwing up her face.

"We'll tell Eric your plan. After we close. I asked him and he's going to be all ready to talk to us."

"To you, you mean. It's you he likes," Dawn grumbled.

"No. This is your chance to tell him. I'll just be there for moral support."

"Sure, Sookie. Yeah, and if you get all the credit, well that'll be swell too, I guess. That's if you don't end up shouting at him again and ruining it for me." Dawn loaded up her tray with the food Lafayette passed her and stalked off.

"Don't worry, Sookie honey. You just can't win with some folks," Lafayette said, across the hatch.

I shrugged and tried not to feel too hurt. While gratitude might have been too much to expect, I had expected some enthusiasm for my arrangements.

"I know," I said, as I loaded up my own tray.

"And anyway, D'Eriq reckons you got the better ass. Better than Dawn's flat as a pancake behind anyway." He turned around and met D'Eriq's glare from the other end of the kitchen. "What? You know that's what you been' sayin' all night. I gotta hear about, I'm gonna pass on the compliment!"

"OK. Well, thanks guys." I left the kitchen feeling a little better, although I wasn't entirely sure whether it was simply because D'Eriq liked my butt more than Dawn's.

By the time the bar was closing Dawn had the jitters, something she displayed almost entirely by sniping at me whenever she got the chance. "I thought you said he'd come out," she complained, as we wiped down the trays we'd used and re-stacked them. "But he ain't here."

"He'll be here."

"What's happening?" Ginger asked, as she joined us.

"We are _waiting_," Dawn said, with the emphasis on the waiting part, "for Eric to show his face like Sookie said he would."

"And then Dawn's going to tell him her idea about the new section," I finished up.

"Oh. Cool," Ginger said enthusiastically. "I think it's a great idea, hon. I'd say yes to it."

"Yeah, but you ain't in charge," Dawn grumbled.

Ginger didn't reply to that, instead she just hurried through her own tasks so we'd be ready for the big…presentation I guessed. Although when I'd worked at Herveaux's presentations had always meant helping Sam with trying to make PowerPoint stop going all wonky. Here it was going to mean…well, I wasn't sure. Showing Eric that it was better to see the TV from the front of the bar rather than the side I guessed.

When we were done, the three of us hovered around in front of the bar. Even Jane had left now, collected by her son Marvin and helped out to his car by Ginger. "I know she's a lush, but at least she's nice with it. And not all handsy like you'd get with a man," Ginger said when she returned to Dawn and I.

Dawn didn't reply to Ginger, she just stared at the door to the back of the bar. All of a sudden it opened, and she jumped, just a little. But it was only Long Shadow, who walked out carrying some glasses.

"You-all waitin' out here for the boss?" he asked.

"Yep," Ginger said, sounding kind of happy.

"Uh-huh," Dawn said, sounding anything but.

"Big demonstration, is it?" Long Shadow asked, looking directly at me. "Wont'cha need a pole, Blondie?"

I was about to reply, when the door opened again, and this time, it was Eric, with Pam right behind him. As much as I liked Pam, I wasn't sure that Dawn needed more of an audience.

Eric came around in front of the bar, and stood there with his arms crossed. If he'd tried, he probably couldn't have looked any less impressed with what was going on. I was tempted to go over and kick him in the shins for being such an ass about it all. All Dawn wanted was a chance to share her idea.

But I was beaten to it by Pam who came and stood beside Eric. "Oh for God's sake, Eric," she said. "You've got a face like a cat's bum. Try and cheer up just a little. It's not often people want to spend time with you. Make the most of it."

Eric turned to glare at Pam, and Pam nonchalantly examined her nails with just the slightest smirk on her face. Beside me Ginger got the giggles, and didn't do a particularly good job of hiding it. Dawn seemed to have stage fright and was busy examining the grain of the wood on top of the table she was nearest to.

So far, this wasn't going as I'd hoped it would.

I cleared my throat, which caused Eric to look over at me, although his glare didn't falter at all.

"OK, so thanks for agreeing to meet with us," I said, and Eric's expression softened slightly. Possibly not in a way that was visible to the naked eye, but the air of disgruntlement around him seemed to lessen.

"Dawn's had an idea about the sections in the bar that she'd like to share," I continued, feeling a little like a first grade teacher trying to coax a less than enthusiastic student up to the front of the class.

There was a pause while Dawn, I think, tried to pretend it wasn't happening, and then she took a big breath in and looked up at Eric. Possibly that was a bad move because Pam's description of his face hadn't been all that inaccurate. But Dawn, somewhat bravely, decided to soldier on.

"So…we've got the TV now…" she said, in a voice that could have done with being a little louder. Eric didn't look impressed. I guess he knew we had a TV in the bar now.

"And…people are comin' in, and watchin' the TV…" Dawn continued, and I could see Eric's patience, what little there was of it, faltering. It was very tempting to jump in and take over the explanation, but I couldn't, not if this was going to be Dawn's idea. I didn't think Dawn would ever forgive me for that.

"And I think they need a better place to watch it," Dawn finished, with a shrug.

Eric didn't look particularly impressed and Long Shadow, who'd watched from behind the bar where he'd been putting glasses away very slowly, was openly smirking. Pam, however, looked interested.

"Better?" she prompted.

Dawn looked a little startled that she'd been asked for more detail. "Um. Yeah. You know. So they don't have to try to see past everyone else."

There was silence for a moment, and then Eric asked "And how would you achieve that?"

Dawn shuffled a little, from foot to foot. "I'd move the tables," she said, very, very quietly.

Eric frowned. "What? Where?"

Dawn looked at me, and I smiled at her in what I hoped was an encouraging way. I think it was encouraging, but not because I made her feel like she was being supported by her co-workers. No, from the look of annoyance that flashed across her face it was more like she was out to prove that she was better than me.

Well, I guess if it worked for her.

"OK," Dawn said, a little louder this time. "OK. So what I was thinking was that we'd move some of the tables over here…" she walked out so she was standing directly in front of the bar. "So they'd have a clear view. You know, for the people who just want a beer and to watch the game. Or something." She shrugged a little and looked at Ginger, who nodded enthusiastically.

"Lots of people just want a beer to unwind after work, but they'll sit a spell if there's something they can watch," Ginger added. "Have a second or a third drink, maybe."

Eric looked thoughtful. "You think we'd sell more drinks?" he asked Dawn.

"Uh-huh," she said, looking more confident.

"What about food?" Eric asked, and Dawn looked worried. "I guess if they drink enough they might want snacks?" she said.

Eric considered that. "I suppose there are better margins on the alcohol," he mused, half to himself and half to Pam, who nodded along.

"We could try it?" I threw in, hoping it was OK to join the fray now that the main idea was out there. "I mean, it's not set in stone, is it?"

Everyone looked at Eric waiting for his response to that. "OK," he said, in the end.

"OK…?" Dawn asked, slowly.

"Move the tables. Tonight. We'll try it for a week."

Dawn beamed and so did Ginger. I felt pretty pleased too. The only person looking less than pleased now was Long Shadow. "So I gotta have a bunch of rowdy drunks sittin' right there the whole damn time, hollerin' at the TV and shoutin' each other down?"

Eric looked over his shoulder at him. "It's a bar. What did you expect?" Long Shadow didn't have an answer to that one.

"I think it's a great idea," Pam said. "Well done, Dawn." She turned to Eric, possibly to see if he'd second that, but instead Eric asked "Anyone else?"

"Anyone else?" I echoed.

"Any more ideas?"

I looked over at Ginger, who cleared her throat. "We need to serve wine," she said.

"We do?" Eric asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Yep," Ginger said emphatically. "We do. Folks keep askin' for it, and I know it spoils if you don't sell it, and it's harder to store, but we should have everythin' available, shouldn't we? I mean, for the customers."

"We should," I agreed.

"OK," Eric said. "I'll think about it. Anything else?"

"Lunches," I said.

"Lunches?" Pam asked. "What, like sandwiches?"

"No. We should open at lunchtime. Some of the guys from the Norcross plant kept saying they'd come down in their lunch hour if we were open. I bet Jason's road crew would too."

"We used to open at lunchtime," Ginger said. "Fridays was always real busy."

"That means more staff," Eric said. "I'll think about it, but it won't be happening any time soon. Anything else?"

We all looked at each other, and shook our head. "Nope," I said. "I think that's it for now."

"OK," Eric said, and he started to walk back to his office.

"I think you forgot something," Pam called after him. Eric turned around. "The customary phrase is thank you," she finished.

Eric nodded. "I think you just covered that one off, Pam. So yes. Thank you." He disappeared out the door.

It took us nearly an hour to get the tables set out how we wanted them. It turned out that Dawn and Ginger both had very definite ideas about how the section should be set out, and how big it should be and how many table should be taken from each of our existing sections. But we reached a compromise, and, long after Lafayette, D'Eriq and Long Shadow had given up and left the bar, we finally had a new drinking section we were happy with.

"I don't think that's a bad night's effort," I said, suddenly feeling weary right down to my bones. It had been a long and busy night. It had been a long and busy week.

I wondered if I was going to get anything else from now on.

We walked through to the store room together and retrieved our belongings from our lockers, before walking back into the corridor and towards the door to the parking lot. Dawn seemed almost friendly towards me, now that the worst was over. "You know," she said. "Management just needs to listen to their workers occasionally. We actually do know what's going on."

"And I'm grateful that you do," Eric's voice said, from behind us. "Sookie. A word in my office?"

Dawn looked a little chagrined and a lot envious. Ginger looked worried. I gave them both my brightest don't-worry-about-me smile, and turned towards Eric. "Sure."

I looked back at my departing co-workers, who were now stepping through the door to the outside. "'Night, Dawn. "'Night, Ginger. Enjoy your night off tomorrow!"

They returned my goodbyes and left me alone. Well, not completely alone. Eric was there. And so was Pam I discovered. She was waiting for us in Eric's office.

Eric didn't really look at me; he just sat down in his chair and looked at his desk. Pam smiled warmly though. "Good job, out there."

"I didn't really do much. The others had most of the ideas."

"But you organised them," Eric said. It sounded mildly like an accusation, although I wasn't sure what I was being accused of.

"I'm not about to unionise your workforce, Eric."

Eric's lips twitched, but he suppressed the smile and remained all business. "You like…it, don't you, Sookie?"

"Like…what?"

"Helping. People."

"Well…yes, I mean. Everyone does." Clearly Eric had brought me in her for some specific purpose but for the life of me, I had no idea where this was leading. Still, I was comforted slightly by the fact that Pam was here as well and no one was actually yelling. Yet.

"And the bar."

"And the bar, what?" I looked to Pam for some help, but she was looking at Eric. Maybe she was as mystified as I was.

"I told you," Pam said. "I said we should tell her." OK, so she wasn't mystified, that was only me. I wanted to tell them they weren't playing nice but I didn't think they'd really care.

"You…care about the bar," Eric said to me, while ignoring Pam.

"Oh. Well I do work here." From the look on Eric's face, that was the wrong answer. I tried to figure out what the right one would have been. "Well…I mean. I like to take some pride in my work," I said in the end. "And I…um…" I wasn't sure if I was quite brave enough to confess my deepest fear to Eric, but I took a deep breath and I did it anyway. "I don't want it to fail. I don't want to lose my job again."

My voice sounded small and scared and I felt more than a little silly. After all, worse things happened, didn't they?

But Eric didn't seem to think I was all that silly. "No. None of us want that," he said seriously.

"And that's why we need your help, Sookie," Pam said, earnestly.

"My…help?" I hoped they didn't want more ideas for the running of the bar. I was out of them.

"Yes," Eric said emphatically. "I need you to find something."

"Find? I think…that's not…" Eric had completely lost me now.

Eric sighed. "It's money, Sookie. It seems to have been embezzled...somehow. I need you to find sixty thousand dollars that the bar has lost. And I need you to find it quickly." I didn't really need to ask Eric if it was that bad, his face said it all.

I had the sinking feeling that my worst fears weren't that far off coming true.

"I have every faith in you, Sookie," Pam said.

I looked to Eric. I wondered if he had every faith in me too. Instead he just said. "By Tuesday. I need to know by Tuesday."

"Tuesday," I repeated, feeling my stomach sink almost down to my toes. "OK."

I waited to see what he'd say next, but Eric just looked uncomfortable. I guessed asking for help wasn't really his strong suit.

I figured I was dismissed. "Right. OK. I'll…um…see you both tomorrow then."

"Yes. You take care, Sookie," Pam said, warmly. Eric looked up at me, and, just for a moment, I could see all the worry sitting right there in his face. I fought back the urge to walk over and hug him, just as I'd done to Pam earlier in the evening.

But, around here, hugs were dangerous things. So I didn't. Instead I said goodnight and walked out to my car under the bright, bright glare of the brand-new spotlight. And I felt my own worries buzzing about in my brain, just as Eric's probably were.

It was nice we had that in common.

**Thanks for reading!**


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N So here I am again. Thanks for sticking around!**

**Disclaimer: Not mine.**

I woke up on Sunday morning a little later than I'd anticipated, and that left me feeling flustered. Truth be told I'd been feeling flustered since Eric had announced the night before that I was now the person responsible for getting the bar out of hot water. I wasn't sure what made me feel worse on that front; the fact that I had such a tight timeframe, or the fact that it might have been an inside job.

So feeling a little flustered because I might be late for church was, in actual fact, a relief of some sorts. It was nice to focus on something I could fix by merely speeding up my morning routine and skipping breakfast.

I regretted the skipping breakfast part once I was seated in a pew, though. I regretted it even more when my stomach let out a large rumble just as Maxine Fortenberry sat down next to me.

"My goodness, you sound like you need a good square meal," Maxine said. "And you look real tired too, child. I know you young folk don't wanna hear that you're not invincible, but you need to take better care of yourself."

I already had the suspicion I wasn't invincible, and Maxine offering up sympathy for that fact just made me want to crawl into her lap for the comfort I might have once had from Gran. But I didn't. I smiled and I said "Oh, don't worry about me! I'm doing just fine. How're you, Mrs Fortenberry?"

"Oh, I'm great Sookie. Little worried about my Hoyt, but that's a mother's lot in life, isn't it?"

"Something wrong with Hoyt?"

"Nothing finding a good woman couldn't fix." Maxine at least had the decency not to look too pointedly at me when she said that, although I could still catch where her hopes lay. Sadly they were doomed to go unfulfilled as I simply had no desire to date Hoyt Fortenberry, and I'd said that to his face, although in more gentle terms, when he'd asked me out when I was 20. It was never going to happen.

But Maxine was entitled to her dreams as long as she didn't want to encroach on mine, so I let that statement lay, and moved the conversation onto more mundane things, like how hot the weather was today.

And it was hot. Summer had arrived in full-force and, as soon as the sermon started, I regretted that I had left my hair loose, as its weight was leaving a sweaty patch over my neck and upper back. Cursing my own vanity for deciding to wear it that way was probably as good as a lesson as the sermon itself, but I enjoyed the singing and the distraction of watching poor Halleigh Bellefleur try to manoeuvre herself into a pew ahead of me. It was hard to tell who was in more discomfort; Halleigh as she lowered herself down onto the hard wood, or Andy, as she gripped his arm tightly while going through that process.

But when church was over, and I had said my goodbyes, there were very few distractions left from the thoughts buzzing around in my head. I had clear evidence of this when, just as I was about to turn into Hummingbird Road on my drive home, I imagined that in the distance I saw a flash of cherry red bodywork disappearing down the parish road in a cloud of dust.

Clearly I was now hallucinating that my problems were following me around. I shook my head, in the hope of clearing it, although all I managed to do was confirm that my hair was a mess of sweaty curls stuck to my upper back. The dust-cloud disappeared and I made my turn, before continuing up my driveway to my house and contemplating, as I did so, that the driveway was badly in need of new gravel.

When I got to the door of my house it turned out that I hadn't been hallucinating. There was a note sticking out from under the welcome mat which read _Please come early today at 3pm so we can get started. E._

The E was large and spiky, but even without that, I would have known who this note was from. I was momentarily stunned by the fact that Eric had driven all the way out here instead of just calling me, and I didn't immediately notice that there was a small addition written at the bottom of the note. It said _You were right. There should be a reward for surviving the driveway._

Well, it was nice to know I was right about something and, also, that I wasn't hallucinating. It was just the fact of being summoned to appear before Eric that left me feeling a mite unsettled.

I let myself into the house and found that it was hotter inside than it was out. I switched on the ceiling fan in the living room, but it didn't make a great deal of difference. There wasn't much I could do though; I couldn't afford air conditioning.

I walked into my bedroom and peeled my dress off of my hot, sticky skin. I pulled my hair up on top of my head, and I put on a tank top and some shorts. And then I went to do some laundry.

When the washing machine was whirring away, I made and ate a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, accompanied by a large glass of tea. The heat had sapped my desire for food and I reasoned I could eat something more substantial later on, before I went to work. And then, at a loss for what to do to occupy myself until I needed to move the laundry into the dryer, I decided to sit for a spell and read my book.

Only maybe the book wasn't as engaging as I had hoped it would be. I opened my eyes a little while later and felt groggy and disoriented and a little sore; my neck was stiff from the awkward way I had been laying on my couch. I glanced at the clock on the mantle. No, that couldn't be right.

It simply couldn't be two-thirty now. Because that would mean I needed to be at work in half an hour. And it would take me a good twenty minutes to drive out to the bar. And I needed to get ready first.

My panic held me motionless for a few seconds as I tried to figure out the best course of action amongst all the thoughts competing for attention in my head. Shower, I decided. I would shower first.

I ran to my bathroom and switched on the water, stepping into the tub before it had even warmed up. That was OK; I needed the cool water to wake me up and to refresh me. Sadly though, I had no time to wash my hair. Or even style it.

When I was out of the shower I wrapped a towel around me and re-did my hair as best I could in a top knot. I applied a quick swipe of mascara and lip gloss and then I went into the bedroom and pulled a fresh pair of panties and a bra out of my drawer, and a clean t-shirt, one with the bar's name on it.

I put those on, and then I opened the next drawer down and stared into it, but there were no clean jeans where there should have been clean jeans.

And then I remembered my laundry, which was still sitting, wet, in my washing machine. The load which contained my only pair of jeans now that I had ruined a pair when I was attacked in the parking lot.

There simply wasn't time to get them dry now, not even if I'd driven to the bar in just my panties with my jeans hanging out the car window all the way.

The image of that kept me a little cheered while I scoured my remaining clothing choices for something suitable to wear. Right at the bottom of the drawer were a pair of jean shorts left over from my high school days. I held them up, examining the fit, and then realised that I didn't have time to ponder any longer and they'd have to do.

I had been worried that I wouldn't be able to get them on, but it turned out that skipping meals and working on my feet had worked wonders as a diet and exercise program. Still, my Daisy Dukes were awfully tight and I wondered whether the pattern of my lacy bikini briefs would be imprinted on my behind forever more.

There wasn't time to change, though. Sneakers and socks on, I grabbed my purse and, after a quick stop to move my wet clothes into the dryer, I walked quickly to my car. I started the engine and I set off down the driveway.

Bill was turning out of his driveway as I passed it, and I waved at him before his car pulled out and started following mine. I had an awful thought that he might have been summoned to the bar as well and that I'd be stuck in an office with both him and Eric, but he headed into the centre of Bon Temps, probably en route to the Bellefleur's.

I imagined the afternoon that he had in store; cocktails, conversation and dinner in the formal dining room with Caroline Bellefleur's famous chocolate cake served as dessert.

And then I imagined the afternoon I had ahead of me; sitting in a small, hot, airless office with Eric, pouring over the accounts and trying, desperately, to find where sixty thousand dollars might have disappeared to.

I decided that I actually preferred what I was about to do, although I could sure use a slice of the chocolate cake. I'd barely eaten all day and I wished I'd had a chance to have a snack before leaving for work. I reached over and rummaged around in my purse and managed to locate a lone stick of gum.

It would have to do.

When I pulled the car around to park behind the bar, Eric's Corvette was already there. I parked beside it and hustled inside the building, heading for the storeroom in order to put my purse in my locker. However Eric's voice through the open door of his office stopped me in my tracks. "You're here," he said.

I wasn't sure how to take that. Was Eric annoyed that I was a few minutes late? I retraced my steps down the hall and entered his office. Eric was sitting behind his desk looking a little impatient. My heart sank; I hadn't even started to do the work yet and I'd failed the first test which was to get here early. I couldn't help but feel that it was all downhill from here.

"You got the note," Eric said. "Good." He didn't sound angry with me though, so I was thankful for that. He shifted his chair along the desk a little and dragged the spare chair so it was next to him.

I put my purse down next to the desk and took my seat next to Eric. It was very crowded now, on this side of the desk. And the office was hot and airless. I could feel myself getting sticky just sitting there.

Eric started punching the keyboard of his computer. "I was surprised you didn't call," I ventured, and he turned to look at me. "The note. It was…well. You could have called."

Eric turned back to the computer screen. "I had no desire to have a conversation with your glovebox, Sookie."

He was not wrong about the location of my cellphone. "I do have another phone. In my house. And I'm in the phonebook." Eric didn't reply to that and I wasn't sure if he'd lost interest or just didn't want to discuss his motivations for visiting me.

I still found the whole thing a little odd; surely a phone call would have been much simpler. Although, truth be told, I was a little sad I'd missed him stopping by. I was curious as to what Eric was like away from the bar.

And there was nothing wrong with being curious about people, was there?

but I had other things to be curious about. "When did you first notice the money missing?" I asked.

Eric looked thoughtful. "About two months ago. Maybe three. It wasn't the whole amount at once. But things weren't adding up…and I thought I would find it. I thought that maybe it was someone skimming out of the takings." He sat back in his chair and sighed.

"And you didn't?"

"No. I asked Dawn to…watch what was going on. She was the only one who hadn't been here before I bought the bar. But she was no use; I got much gossip and no information. And the takings were adding up anyway."

Well, that answered one question. Now I knew what it was Dawn had been in here reporting on every night after work.

"OK," I said, trying to think through where to start. "OK, so what I'll do is start with the bank statements. See if there are any odd amounts going out."

"I have done that already." Eric didn't seem impressed with my suggestion.

"But I haven't. And I'm doing this now." Eric and I looked at each other for a few seconds and then he conceded.

"Fine. Here's the binder."

"And they're all in there? It's right up to date?"

Eric looked exasperated. "Yes, Sookie. They are all up to date."

"OK then. I'll get started."

I opened up the binder and ran my eye over the statements, one by one, looking for anything which didn't seem to belong, the task taking me about fifteen minutes. Nothing seemed unusual. I closed the binder.

I looked over at Eric, who had been sitting next to me the whole time and only making me mildly unsettled with the way he was hovering near my shoulder and trying to peer at the bank statements with me.

"I can't see anything odd…" I ventured.

"No," Eric agreed, managing to convey that he thought I'd been wasting my time, and probably his, by re-doing something he'd already done himself.

But I wanted to be thorough.

"OK, so now I'm going to just reconcile everything again, I think," I said, looking at Eric, who simply frowned.

"But…again?"

"Well…yes. I can't really get a feel for it if I don't just start from scratch." Eric sighed, but didn't say anything else. "So…can I make some print-outs?"

"If you must." Eric didn't sound thrilled about the way I was going about this.

I turned to face him full-on. "Look, Eric. I'm sorry, but I'm not magic. I can't just wave a wand and figure it all out. I have to go through a…a…process. I have to get it all ordered in my own mind. And then I'll find it." I paused. "I mean, I should be able to find it. I'll do my best." I hoped that satisfied him.

Eric pressed his lips together, so hard they all but disappeared, but he remained silent for a moment.

"All right," he said, quietly. "You do it your way."

"It's the only way it'll make sense to me," I confessed. I might not be the smartest person around, or the most qualified, but I was thorough, and I was methodical, and I very rarely gave up.

"So, start then," Eric said. Commanded, really.

"I…um…can we switch seats?" I asked. In reply to that, Eric simply stood up. I did the same, aware that the sound of my sticky thighs parting from the vinyl on the chair I'd been using was loud in the otherwise silent room. And then Eric and I tried to get past each other in the small space between the chairs and the desk.

We got very, very close.

Once I was seated again, in Eric's big chair now, I decided that Eric's presence in the office was really unnecessary. "Maybe you should go and check what they're doing out in the bar?" I suggested, as I turned to the computer screen and started clicking the right icons to get to what I wanted.

Eric looked at his watch. "It's a little early for them to be setting up yet," he commented.

"Well, I'm sure you have better things to do than watch me." I clicked the print button and the printer whirred to life. I swivelled around in my seat, ready to collect the print outs and caught Eric's eye. He was just watching me. Closely.

There was something in his gaze that was a little bit unsettling. And not just because I could feel the weight of his expectations. This was something different, something more…personal.

"Eric," I said, as firmly as I could. "I really think I can manage. On my own. So…shoo!" I waved a hand at him.

Eric's lips curved up into a smile. "You are shooing me, Sookie? Out of my own office?"

"Yes," I said, nodding. "Yes I am. I need to concentrate and you are a distraction."

"A nice distraction?" Eric was still smiling, only now the smile was bordering on predatory. I felt a little trapped where I was, in the big chair with a wall on one side, the desk in front and the shelves behind. And, of course, Eric between me and the door.

"A big distraction." He could take that however he wanted.

"I'll go then. And leave you to your reconciliation."

"Yep…that would be…helpful…" Words were failing me and I cursed Eric in my head.

But he did do as I'd asked. He stood up smoothly and I marvelled at how someone that large managed to look almost elegant as he unfurled himself from what had to be a cramped position. For one thing, his thighs didn't stick to the chair.

I wished I'd had time to dry my jeans properly.

And while I was wishing that, Eric left the office, and I got down to work.

I spent nearly two hours going through everything again, checking off the payments out and the payments in, crossing things off when they matched. I couldn't find any obvious discrepancies. Everything seemed like it should.

Pam came into the office during that time and asked me if I was getting anywhere. Well, she didn't ask me in so many words. She made some idle chit chat and then asked me if I was "getting through it all".

I said that I was, and, when she left, I carried on.

But I couldn't find it. I was missing something, but I wasn't sure what. I sat back and I tried to think, and that's when Eric arrived back in the office.

"So…?" he asked, trying, and failing, to keep the impatience out of his voice.

"So…I've almost finished reconciling everything."

Eric stepped closer, until he was standing right next to me. "And?" he asked.

"And…" I started to say, but then my stomach rumbled. Loudly.

"Haven't you eaten?" Eric asked.

"I was in a rush to get here…" I didn't add that my unplanned nap had thrown my schedule right out.

Eric frowned, and looked annoyed, and then left the office. I turned back to what I had been working on and tried to damp down the sinking feeling I had as I got closer and closer to the current date without any result.

After a while Eric reappeared, carrying a plate which he put on the desk in front of me, with a certain amount of flourish. On it was a burger and a large portion of fries.

"Oh," I said, momentarily lost for words. I pulled the papers I'd been using out from under the plate. "Thank-you, Eric."

"You need to make sure you eat," he said, somewhat accusingly, as he sat down next to me.

"Uh-huh." I was trying to chew on a fry that was far too hot to really eat successfully.

"You're no use to me if you faint."

"I don't think I've ever fainted."

"There's a first time for everything." Eric helped himself to one of the fries.

"So…you're giving me some food, and then you're going to eat it all yourself?" I asked.

"Some."

"That doesn't seem fair." I took a bite of my burger. I hadn't realised how much I needed food until I had some. That burger tasted heavenly.

"Have you paid for the food?" Eric asked me, raising an eyebrow.

I swallowed. "Oh. Um. Well, no…" I hoped I wasn't going to be charged for the dinner Eric had brought me.

"So then. No loss to you." Eric ate another fry.

"I…" Nope, I didn't really have an argument for that, although I thought I should. "So this is like that movie then, _Braveheart_? And you're like the sheriff, or the lord, or whatever he was, who thought he had rights to all the women? Except in your case, it's fries?"

"You think that because I'm sharing these fries with you, I'm trying to assert my rights to all the fries in the…building?" Eric asked, while helping himself again.

"Kind of. You seem pretty confident I'm going to let you keep on eating them. I guess I should be glad it's the fries and not the women that have taken your fancy."

"Well if I was the sheriff, or the lord, or whatever he was," Eric said. "Then I would probably only be interested in the women who were useful."

I looked at the piles of paper I had spread all over the desk. Was he referring to how useful I was?

"Of course I might also be interested in the ones with nice legs," Eric added, leaning over sideways to look at my legs under the desk. Oh.

"Eric…" I warned. "I think you should keep your mind on the fries." Eric shrugged and went back to eating, with only the hint of a smile on his face.

"Thank you, though. For feeding me."

"A moment ago you were complaining I was stealing your food."

"No. Well…just, I appreciate you thinking about my wellbeing."

"I think about…your _wellbeing_ more than I'd care to."

He was not helpful when he made statements like that, no matter how direct his gaze was, or how it made me feel warm right in the pit of my stomach.

"You know, you're a lot different out here, in this office, than you are in the bar," I said. "At least, when I'm not in trouble for hugging people. I hugged Pam yesterday. Sorry I didn't file the request in triplicate first." I ate some of my burger.

I had wondered how that statement would go down, with Eric. But he laughed, the sound loud and abrupt. I couldn't help myself, I laughed too. Just a little.

"I'm sure Pam enjoyed that," Eric said, when his laughter had subsided.

"I think Pam really needed it. She told me about Miriam. It was a very sad tale, but I'm glad she told me."

Eric nodded. "Pam likes you."

"I like Pam." I looked at Eric, and I got the impression that we weren't talking about Pam anymore. It was time to change the subject.

"I'm nearly done with the reconciliation."

"But nothing yet?"

"Nothing yet."

Eric nodded again, and I tried to pretend I hadn't seen his shoulders slump down.

"I'll carry on then," I said, and Eric stood up and, after taking a few more fries from my plate, he left.

I finished my dinner and the reconciliation, no closer to finding the answer Eric wanted. I was pondering where I could look next, when Eric walked back in.

"You're needed. Out there," he said, pointing in the direction of the bar.

"I am?"

"Apparently so." Eric didn't elaborate, so I simply stood up and, carrying my now empty plate, headed out to the bar. I dropped the plate off at the kitchen hatch and walked over to Dawn. "You guys wanted me out here?"

"Oh Sookie, hi!" Danielle said. She was standing next to Dawn. I'd glanced around the bar. There weren't an awful lot of customers, so I wasn't really certain why they'd needed me out here.

"Can you tell her?" Dawn said.

"What?"

"How the new section works? And why're you wearing shorts, anyway?"

"Just because." I thought that was a little personal of Dawn. And I didn't like the way she was eyeing me up and down. "And why couldn't you two figure it out for yourselves?"

Dawn sighed and rolled her eyes. "Danielle wanted to hear it from the horse's mouth I guess. And that horse would be you."

There were a couple of ways I could take that statement, and I decided that I didn't like that comparison whichever way. "It was Dawn's idea. She has the plan," I explained to Danielle.

"Oh. Well, she said she'd thought of it, but I just thought…" Danielle looked from me to Dawn and back again.

"Of course it ain't all that easy covering the whole damn place with just two of us," Dawn huffed. "Never mind the new section."

"OK. Well, I'll cover for breaks then." I didn't see that I had much choice.

"I guess it'd be a shame if you didn't get to flash those Daisy Dukes around," Dawn said, adding "Although I guess the main audience has already seen them," almost, but not quite, under her breath.

I ignored that, and went and picked up a tray.

"Looking good, Blondie. Nice to see you gracing us with a bit more flesh."

"It ain't for you," I said, staring him down.

"No. It's for that fella of yours, isn't it?" Jane added, from her seat at the bar. "It's important to dress nice. Marvin always liked it if I wore something tight."

"Had trouble with his eyesight, did he?" Long Shadow asked, unkindly, but it bounced straight off Jane. "No, he had 20/20 vision until he passed, God rest his soul." She raised her glass, and then downed it in tribute.

I took over the area Dawn had been covering but the customers were scarce. Unfortunately, they included Jason. "Hey! Sook! Over here!" At least he was sitting in the new section and proving Dawn right about his TV viewing habits.

As I walked over to him he announced, "Calvin's been asking where you were, he needs a drink."

"OK." Jason was sitting with Calvin Norris; I hadn't known they were tight. "No Hoyt tonight?"

"No. His momma likes him home on Sundays. Family day she says." Jason screwed up his face like he couldn't see the reasoning behind that.

"What'll you have Calvin?" I asked. Calvin Norris was quite a bit older than Jason, maybe early forties. His close-cropped hair and beard were starting to salt and pepper a little. He worked at the Norcross plant and lived in Hot Shot, a small settlement south of Bon Temps, where folks had the reputation of being a little crazier, a lot poorer and a whole lot less desirable than their Bon Temps counterparts. At least they did to anyone who lived in Bon Temps.

"We'll take a pitcher," he said, glancing at Jason, who smiled approvingly. Well, he would if he wasn't the one buying the drinks.

"OK," I said. "Anything else?"

"Maybe some of them fries?" Jason suggested to Calvin.

"Sure," Calvin agreed, smiling at me.

"Coming right up." I placed their order and then took back their beer. "You guys enjoy your evening."

"Well I figured I deserved a night out," Calvin said to me. "I been working double shifts at the plant, and while it's good for the wallet, it's a little lonely. Nothing like going home, late, to an empty house and realising there's something missing."

"You need a woman," Jason threw in, and I began to get suspicious.

"I know," Calvin agreed, and I skedaddled out of there before they got more specific. Nice of Jason to try to sell me off to the highest bidder, the one who was willing to buy him beer and fries. I was so mad I didn't immediately notice Lafayette trying to beckon me over.

"Here's their fries; why you got a face like thunder?"

"Jason."

"Uh-huh. Well, he's just God's way of sayin' that a pretty face don't mean you done good in this world. Still, your assets ain't nothin' to be sorry for either, now you got them on display."

I looked down at my shorts. "It was laundry day," I muttered.

"'course it was, Miss Sookie," Lafayette said, reaching through the hatch to pat me on the shoulder. I took the basket of fries and delivered it without even stopping at the table. "Enjoy those!" I said breezily, as I marched on past.

Dawn came back and I sent Danielle off. "I like the new section," she said. "And your new look. It'll help with the tips."

"That wasn't the reason I wore them."

"So it's true? 'bought you and the boss?" she asked.

"Oh. No. It's just laundry day."

"Uh-huh." Seemed like no one believed that.

Jason cornered me when I wasn't looking. "Say, uh, Calvin was asking after you, before, which is why I said he should maybe sit with me…"

"Jason, I don't have any interest in Calvin Norris."

"Oh, now, don't judge him just because he's from Hot Shot. He's got a good job and just 'cause most of those folks are struggling down there, don't mean he is."

"But I still don't have to date him. I'm not here to get myself a man."

Jason looked at me, a long, hard look. "And yet, there you are in man-catching shorts, Sookie. There's someone you're interested in."

"Just…take a hike, Jason. Go back to your pal, Calvin. Maybe he'll buy you another drink." Jason didn't look pleased at that, but he did as I'd asked at least.

It took longer than I would have liked to extricate myself from the bar and get back to Eric's office to continue my work. "You were a while," he said, grumpily.

"Well, everyone felt the need to discuss my shorts with me. Honestly, I wish I'd never worn the damn things." I was kind of mad at them all for feeling the need to discuss my body, with me. They could keep their damn thoughts to themselves.

"I like your shorts," he replied.

"That wasn't an invitation to throw in your two cent's worth, Eric."

He shrugged. "They're very eye-catching."

"They're a little uncomfortable. Especially when I'm sitting down."

"I would have termed them…pleasingly snug." He took a good, long look at my behind.

"I would have said that maybe that's crossing a line that shouldn't be crossed."

"I'm sorry," Eric said, feigning surprise. "I thought you wanted an honest opinion."

"No. No, I was just saying…" I trailed off, realising that Eric was just trying to confuse me. "I think maybe it was a mistake showing this much flesh. When I'm in here. With you."

Eric looked a little saddened by that. "It's hardly like I invited you here for an orgy, Sookie. And I didn't make you wear the shorts. I just like them. That's not a crime is it?"

I considered that. I kind of felt like it should be, but I didn't really have a justification for why. Better to just get on with work, I decided. I clapped my hands together. "Anyway, back to it. I think I need to go through all the cash register records."

"You do? But I check those each night."

"I know, but I couldn't find it in the reconciliations. So I think I need to go back to basics, and look for a pattern in there."

"How long will that take you?" Eric asked.

"A while. Probably a long while. I'll start and see what I can pick up, and, if I don't get anywhere, I'll think of something else."

"And the something else will be?"

"Something else. No magic remember?" I held my hands out in front of me.

Eric sighed. "OK." He stood up and I took his place in the big office chair. The leather was warm against my thighs which was…unexpectedly thrilling.

Uh-oh.

I spent the rest of the night until the bar closed combing the cash register records, but I couldn't see anything out of the ordinary, just as Eric hadn't before me. Each day's banking tallied with the amount we should have taken in, and the stock levels were going down as you'd expect them to. It was all incredibly frustrating.

And Eric was the most frustrated of all. When the bar had long closed, and I was struggling to keep my eyes open, I had to admit defeat. "I have to go," I said.

"Really?' he asked, with just a hint of desperation in his voice.

"Yes. I can't focus any longer. Look, I'll think about it tomorrow and I'll….we'll get there. We will. We'll find it."

Eric nodded. "We will," he said, decisively. He'd been sitting in the spare chair next to me, and we both stood up, but he didn't move out of my way. He just waited, for what I don't know.

And then I did something I had sworn to myself that I would never do, under any circumstances. I put my arms around Eric, and I hugged him.

I wasn't certain if I was doing it for my comfort, or for his. But I sure did feel comforted by it. For about five seconds, and then Eric put his arms around me and buried his nose in my hair and I became acutely aware how much heat there was being generated by our two bodies, and how I was pressed right up against him, and how white hot flames of desire were shooting through my body. My breathing got a little ragged and my heart beat a little faster. I was sure Eric could feel it.

I pulled away. "See you tomorrow!" I said brightly, and I pushed past Eric and grabbed the purse I'd left on the floor earlier in the day. And then Pam opened the door just as I was about to.

"So?" she asked. "How did it go?"

"Still working on it!" I said brightly. "Round two tomorrow night."

"OK. Well you missed your friend at closing time."

"I did? Who?" I hoped Calvin hadn't been asking about where I'd run off to.

"Jane's son. He said to say hello to the nice waitress who always helps his mum. So, hello."

"Oh. Right. Yes."

"You are popular, Sookie," Eric's voice said, from behind me.

"That'll be the shorts." I walked out of the office and all the way out to my car.

The next day I felt like I needed a break from thinking about Eric and his financial misfortunes. And maybe from just thinking about Eric himself.

I decided to buy replacement jeans. I figured I had earned them. I got in my car and was all set to drive to Wal-Mart when I had a change of heart. Why couldn't I have a real treat for once?

So I drove to Monroe and parked at the large mall there. Seeing the sign for Dillard's gave me an idea. I could call on Claudine at her work, surprise her. At least, I hoped it would be a nice surprise.

But she'd called in to my place of work, and had been happy to chat. I thought that it would be a nice, friendly gesture. Claudine was interesting to me, and I was happy to have all the interesting friends I could.

Who weren't Eric. Because quite frankly, he sucked as a friend. It was all just too damn confusing being in his presence.

But being with Claudine was fun. And I was in the mood for fun.

I walked into Dillard's and read the directory to find the personal shopping department. It was located at the back of the women's wear, where all the real fancy stuff was kept, ball gowns and the like. I felt like my simple shirt and skirt combination didn't really stack up. But I fronted up to the desk and asked if Claudine was available and, after a moment, she appeared, looking as lovely as ever, if a little severe, in a tight, black, short-sleeved dress with her hair scraped back into a bun at the back of her head.

"Sookie!" she said, sounding genuinely pleased to see me here.

"Hi, I was just passing and thought I'd stop by. I've never been here before." From the sneer that appeared on Claudine's colleague's face, she didn't have any trouble believing that statement.

"I'm so glad you did, I was going to call you later."

"You were?" I asked, a little stupidly.

"Uh-huh. Listen, I can't talk now, but can you have lunch with me?"

"Sure."

"That's great, Sookie. I'll meet you at one-thirty? By the Chick- fil-A?"

"Sounds good." I bid my goodbyes and walked through the mall, doing a little window shopping, and passing the time. I found some jeans at a reasonable price at Old Navy and, though I was tempted to buy two pairs, I limited myself to one. After all, if I couldn't find this money for Eric then the future was…

Something I didn't want to contemplate. But I would watch my money and be prudent and cautious and that way, I would be all right in the end.

I hoped.

At the appointed time, Claudine showed up in the food court and we ordered our food, before sitting down. "I really need to start eating better," I contemplated, out loud, while eating a fry. "I seem to live on junk food these days."

"You should have seen me when I was dancing," Claudine commented, taking a large sip of her milkshake. "I ate nothing but popcorn and corn chips for a whole week once."

"Is that a diet?" I asked. I knew dancers did strange things to get the perfect figure.

"Yeah," she said. "It's the poor person's diet. I couldn't afford anything else."

"Oh." And that just proved my theory, no matter how bleak things looked for you, someone else, somewhere else, was worse off.

We ate in silence for a while, and then I noticed Claudine staring off into the distance, frowning a little. "You OK?" I asked.

"Yep. Just peachy. Say, Sookie? I wanted to ask if you could do me a favour."

"A favour?" While I liked Claudine I worried that my favours were stacking up. I still hadn't fixed what Eric had wanted me to fix.

"Yeah. I just need someone to fill in for me. On Wednesday."

"In the class on Wednesday?"

"Yes. I've got…some family business I need to take care of."

"Oh." I thought about that. "Not your brother, I hope."

"What? Oh no! Claude's as hale and hearty as ever. Anything else would be unthinkable. No, this is…something else." She didn't appear to want to elaborate.

"I'm not sure I'm really a dance teacher."

"You'd be great, Sookie." Claudine smiled warmly. "All you have to do is take everyone through the routines we've been doing. And you know them so well."

"Ah…I guess…" I wasn't sure I was qualified, not really. But I could give it a try.

"I'll pay you," Claudine said quickly.

"Oh. No, you don't have to." I was embarrassed that Claudine had mistaken my reluctance for something else.

"Nonsense. You're a substitute teacher. You deserve to get paid."

Maybe I could buy a second pair of jeans after all? Or maybe, and more likely, I could put the extra money towards some gravel for my driveway? "Sure," I said. "I'll do it."

"And I need you to cover my fairy ballet class too," Claudine said, barely missing a beat.

"Uh…um. I don't think I'd be a very good fairy." I thought that in actual fact I'd be a terrible fairy. I'd never been to any of those kinds of classes when I was smaller and I had no idea what to do with a bunch of children now.

"No. You'll be great. I'll tell you what to do. Can you come to the studio tomorrow? Around ten?"

"I can," I confirmed. Of course that was assuming Eric didn't take me prisoner at the bar until I found his money for him.

"Great. Thank you so much for this Sookie. You have no idea how comforting it is to have people I can trust. And I don't think it'll be much bother." Claudine looked sad for a moment. "I don't think the classes will be that full on Wednesday."

"Think everyone will miss you too much?" I asked.

"Something like that. Say, how're you anyway? Work OK? No more, uh, bother from anyone?"

"No. Not much, I mean my boss has me doing some extra stuff for him…"

"Extra? What kind of extra?" Claudine asked quickly.

"Oh, uh. Bookkeeping and stuff. Like I used to do in my old job."

"OK. Right. And you're…happy about this?" Claudine looked concerned.

"Not happy, exactly. I mean, it's a lot of pressure. And it means spending time with him alone. And, as you know, that's real complicated."

Claudine nodded, and looked like she might say something else, but instead she took a long drink of her milkshake, draining the cup. "Well, I better get back to it!" she said, brightly, standing up and brushing non-existent crumbs from her immaculate dress.

"I guess this season's fashions wait for no one," I commented, as I stood up too. I had real crumbs to deal with.

"Sookie," Claudine said, softly, and I looked over at her. "I think you're wise to be cautious with this boss of yours. Workplace relationships, they're complicated. You don't always get the full picture of the person you're getting involved with."

"You think Eric's got a wife stashed somewhere?" I asked, and a weird expression crossed Claudine's face. Something akin to surprise.

"Eric?" she mused, almost to herself. "Well, that, uh, that kinda proves…never mind," she shook herself. "Just be wary and watch that heart of yours. It's the only one you've got. Bye, Sookie." She leaned down and kissed me on the cheek and then I watched her sashay through the mall, as I gathered my purse and the shopping bag that contained my jeans. Several other people, mostly men, but some women, did too. Claudine had that kind of presence.

As I was leaving the mall I was sure that I saw Long Shadow out of the corner of my eye, but when I turned around to get a better look, he wasn't there.

For a moment I wondered if he was following me, but then I shook that feeling off. This was a mall, and he had just as much right to be here when he wasn't working as I did.

I drove home and I got ready for another night in Eric's office. Putting on my new jeans, which were a dark blue and fitted me well, made me feel a little better about that process, although the butterflies in my stomach were in full flight by the time I reached the bar.

Eric was waiting for me in his office, as I'd expected. I had also expected some comment about how I was here, with the implication being that he'd been waiting for me for a while, but instead I got. "New jeans?"

"Yes. I, uh…I bought them today." I wasn't sure that Eric should be making such a big deal out of what I wore.

"I did like the shorts," he said, as he stood up to vacate his seat for me. "But those are good too."

"At least I won't stick to the seat tonight." I heard that again, after I'd said it. It sounded a little too…well, it sounded like something you shouldn't say to your boss. A boss who kept examining your rear end every time he saw you. A boss you had to remind yourself that you shouldn't rub up against just because he was right there and he smelled good.

I closed my eyes, gathered my thoughts, and set to work. Eric left me mostly alone, which was good, because my own rising worry was enough to deal with without it being ignited by the flame of Eric's frustration.

After an hour or two, I sat back and tried to think about it another way. There had to be something I was missing here. "I'm missing something," I said, to one of the pictures of Elvis that still decorated the walls. "Something kinda obvious."

Eric walked in then and looked curious. "Who are you talking to?"

"Elvis." I nodded at the photo. It was black and white one, of a young and handsome Elvis.

"Is he helping?" Eric asked.

"Not much, but he's silently supportive. Well, I like to think he's on my side."

"And I'm…not?"

I sighed. "I think you're on your side, Eric."

"So I can't be on your side as well?"

I didn't really have an answer to that, so I sat in silence for a moment, thinking about what else I could try. "What I think I'll do next," I said, "is start looking through the records of all the invoices loaded for payment."

"But I authorise all of those, Sookie," he said. "And hardly anyone else even puts them in the system."

"I know, but all the same. I'd like to. Are you happy for me to look through the entries that have been loaded?"

Eric nodded. "Go ahead. Be my guest." He couldn't hide the disappointment in his voice. And I was sorry for being the cause of it, although I knew I was only the last link in the chain. The person who had taken the money was really the root cause of the problem, and that wasn't me.

"At least we've got until…tomorrow night?" I asked, confirming how long I got to finish my task.

"Yes," Eric said. "The meeting is set for tomorrow night."

I wanted to ask what meeting, but Eric turned and left without elaborating. I started looking through the invoices, but there was nothing that didn't look above board. All the names and addresses were recognisable. There was the beer company Duff worked for, the catering supplies company, whose truck would arrive and be unloaded under the watchful supervision of Lafayette. The company who provided the napkins, the laundry service, the discount store where Eric bought cleaning supplies, the cleaners themselves…

Only there wasn't just one set of cleaners invoicing us. Eric was paying the company in Shreveport, the ones who turned up and did such a poor job, but he was also paying another place called Mayhew Domestic Services.

Was that the Mayhew's from out in Hot Shot? Dixie and Dixon, brother and sister. There'd been rumours about them for years. That seemed odd as I'd never seen them in the bar at all. I opened up a file for one of the payments made, hoping to find an address and I saw who'd loaded and approved the payment of their invoice.

Victor Madden.

So that had to be before Eric bought the bar? But I checked the date, and it wasn't. Eric had paid them only two weeks earlier. I clicked on the menu that brought up the list of people who had log-ons to the system. Eric was there, with full access, as was Pam. And Victor.

Well that was…surprising.

I looked through and sure enough several thousand dollars had been paid out to Mayhew Domestic Services. There were probably others as well, other companies that were being paid for real invoices but authorised by Victor. Who didn't work here anymore.

I started searching for more evidence, and Eric came into the office. "Anything?" he asked.

"Yes," I replied, and I pointed to the list of authorised users. "You didn't remove Victor from the system when you took over."

Eric shrugged, and came to sit next to me. "He was gone and I didn't see the need."

"You didn't know how?"

Eric looked a little chagrined. "It's not like I was given any instructions."

"OK. So you took over a system that was already here and just added your own suppliers and users in; correct?" Eric nodded. "But now somehow Victor's been paying people. Look."

I changed the view and showed Eric one of the invoices for the Mayhew's. "When was that?" Eric asked sharply.

I peered at the date. "Five days ago."

Eric reached past me and grabbed the mouse, his elbow connecting with my shoulder in the process. He wasn't gentle and he didn't apologise, but I could understand his distress.

He clicked around, looking at all the things I'd already looked at. I couldn't blame him for that either; if it was me, I'd want to see the proof for my own eyes.

"How much?" he asked, in the end.

"I think about twenty thousand to them. But there must be others."

"OK." I looked at Eric's profile, which might as well have been carved from marble; it was so cold and hard. "So…Victor's been stealing from here?"

"I just…it looks like it, but unless he's had access to the system, I can't see how."

"And has he, Sookie? Access?" Eric turned to look at me, his blue eyes flashing dark and furious. I was acutely aware that I was effectively pinned into the corner by Eric's body as he leaned across me to reach the computer. I had nowhere to go and I didn't think I had the right answer.

"That's more a Bill question than a Sookie question," I murmured, and Eric's fury blazed in his face for a moment, before it subsided.

"Yes. You're right. Bill. I should…I should speak to him."

"I think so. I mean, I've done what I can…I'm not sure how it's happened, or why…" I looked at Eric and got the feeling he knew why, but wasn't sharing. "But I can't do more now. I'm sorry." And I was. I wanted to follow it all the way through, to have the big 'a-ha' moment and solve the puzzle. This felt like only half a puzzle, and it wasn't very satisfying.

"Yes. Thank you. You've been…" I never did hear what Eric thought I'd been, because the arm that had so effectively trapped me where I sat moved suddenly, almost faster than I could track, and the next thing I knew I was being pulled towards Eric.

And then he kissed me. And I kissed him back. And I didn't have even more than a fleeting thought about stopping.

All that tension we'd been under for the last couple of days with no real resolution had somehow ended up in a great explosion of sexual desire. And I was not complaining.

Eric's arm reached up to the back of my head and he held me there, tightly, while his other arm roamed down my side to my hip, and back up again, over and over, skimming the side of my breast. I ran my hands down the front of his body, trying to feel the heat of his skin through his shirt. There was too much fabric in the way, though, and it wasn't as satisfying as I'd hoped it would be.

Eric clearly felt the same way as I did, as his hand snaked under my t-shirt and roughly pulled down the cup of my bra. His palm pressing against my nipple felt just exquisite. I pressed my chest up and felt the heat building between my legs. More. I needed more.

Eric was now kissing and sucking on my neck, and I tilted my head to give him better access. He removed his hand from my breast, though, and I felt the loss of sensation keenly. I wanted to tell him to come back and keep doing that, but he put both arms around me and pulled me, roughly, onto his lap.

Oh. OK. Good plan, Eric.

He pulled my t-shirt up and his mouth replaced his hand on my nipple. "Yes," I hissed, and, I think, Eric echoed that sentiment. I certainly had the impression he was enjoying himself. I started to move my hips, looking for some friction, and I could feel the distinct bulge in Eric's jeans.

"Shirt," I murmured. "Shirt…off…" Eric tried to pull my t-shirt over my head. "You," I amended. "Your shirt."

Eric left my t-shirt where it was, bunched up around my chest, and started on the buttons of his own shirt. It was a nice shirt, but it needed to be gone. Now.

But just as he reached the last button, and while I was trying to push his shirt off his shoulders in jerky, desperate movements, there was a loud knock at the door.

"What?" Eric bellowed, not even trying to disguise the annoyance in his voice.

"It is I," said a man's voice on the other side. "Victor Madden."

**To all who are commemorating it, I wish you a pleasant ANZAC day and a rain-free dawn service.**

**Thanks for reading!**


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N So here I am, having survived sick kids, kids on holiday and a sick husband. Finding time to write has been a bit of a mission. But here we go!**

**Disclaimer: Not mine.**

It was like a large bucket of cold water had been poured over Eric and me. "Just a minute," Eric yelled at the door, and then he pushed me, rather roughly and without apology, off his lap so he could start re-buttoning his shirt. I hastily re-arranged my bra and my t-shirt and avoided making eye contact with Eric, which was pretty easy as he wasn't making eye contact with me either.

Eric stood up and opened the door to Victor. "Not interrupting anything, am I?" Victor asked smoothly, as he slid into the room and looked me up and down. He was medium height, with brown curly hair and a Cheshire-cat grin on his face. Despite the heat he was wearing a suit which appeared to be made out of russet brown velvet with a stiff looking white shirt underneath. It was like he'd escaped from Willy Wonka's chocolate factory.

"Yes. You are," Eric said, curtly. "Our meeting was tomorrow night."

Victor waved a hand in the air. "But I was finished in New Orleans early, so I took the opportunity to drive up a day ahead." He cocked his head to one side, and gave me a long, hard, look. "Of course I had no idea that my early arrival would be so…inconvenient for you, Eric." He glanced slyly at Eric.

"Sookie and I were just finishing up some work," Eric said, and I silently wished I hadn't been dragged into this, because, at Eric's mention of my name, Victor's smile grew just that little bit wider.

"I'm Sookie Stackhouse," I said, extending my hand to Victor. "How de do." I hoped that politeness would get me out of any potential embarrassment.

"A pleasure to meet you, Miss Stackhouse." Victor took my hand and, to my surprise, kissed it. I finally got up the nerve to look at Eric straight-on and I saw his lips curl, just a little. I felt the same, but I didn't have the luxury of showing anything other than a polite smile on my face.

"I seem to remember there was another Stackhouse…Jason? Are you related?" Victor asked me.

"He's my brother."

"Ah. Well." Victor dropped my hand. "I remember Jason as being quite the local… heart-throb. What a lovely pair you two make." There was something deeply disconcerting about that comment. "Had I known what I was missing out on, I might have asked for an introduction when I was here before."

I smiled a hard, tight smile at Victor and he moved past me towards the desk. "I see you haven't made many changes, Eric. Well, barring the important one." He nodded at me. "I still feel quite at home here." With that, he sat down, heavily in Eric's chair behind the desk. Only maybe it had been Victor's first.

I suddenly realised what we'd been looking at on the screen before…well before we'd moved on to other things, and my pulse grew a little quicker wondering if Victor might see the evidence incriminating him right on the computer monitor, but when I looked at it properly, I saw the system had locked itself, having laid idle for a while.

I let out a small sigh of relief as Eric moved closer in behind me, but didn't say anything. I wondered exactly what Victor was here for. After all, if he'd been siphoning off money from the bar since he left, surely he was better off staying away? Something seemed a little off somewhere, and it wasn't just the way that Victor kept staring at me.

I was pretty sure they had waitresses in Las Vegas.

"Well, shall we get down to business, Eric?" Victor asked, as he sat back in the chair and looked around expectantly.

Eric nodded. "You can go back out to the bar," he said to me.

"That seems such a shame, Eric. Sookie just brightens up the place." Victor grinned at me broadly.

"I thought that's what the pictures of Elvis were for," I replied, and Victor laughed. It wasn't a pleasant sound.

"You're quite the entertainer, aren't you?" he asked me.

"But not in Elvis' league," I said, as I walked out the door without looking back.

The bar was almost empty, not even Jane was in. Ginger and Dawn were staring at the empty tables and not looking particularly happy. "I thought you were out the back all night tonight?" Dawn asked when she spotted me.

"No. That was all I was needed for."

"Well, that ain't helpful to us. We're short on tips as it is; another waitress is just plain over-kill. Eric shoulda sent you home."

"I don't know why you're in such a bad mood tonight," Ginger asked Dawn.

"I just am!" With that, she walked off, and I could see that one of the few customers in the place was Jason…and a girl who looked like she might be one of the Norris' from Hot Shot. I wondered if perhaps Calvin was upping his overtures to Jason and she was part of the deal, although the idea of a relationship which was arranged purely as some kind of contract seemed downright medieval to me. This might be the South, but it was still America.

"Well, I better get to it, I guess…" I went to grab a tray and see if I could find a few customers to serve.

The rest of the night dragged and what was really only two hours seemed like four or five. I had to stop myself several times from going out into Eric's office to see what was happening. I wondered whether Eric had broached the subject of the bogus invoices with Victor, or whether he was keeping that under his hat for now.

But I had no way of knowing and even Pam was missing tonight, so I couldn't ask her if she knew anything. All I could do was finish up the night and say goodbye to all my co-workers.

I did drag my heels though, just a little, in case Eric did re-appear in the bar. But all I got for my trouble was watching a long, draw-out, and slightly X-rated goodbye between Jason and his latest conquest.

When I could put it off no longer, I gathered up my belongings and walked out to my car. I felt a little better about that walk now that the new spotlight meant my car wasn't shrouded in total darkness, and I felt a lot better about it when I saw Eric was leaning against my car, waiting for me.

"I needed some air," he said, as I approached.

"Oh, and there I thought you were having some kind of scintillating conversation with my glovebox." Eric smiled a little at that, which made him look a lot more handsome. "So how's it going with Victor?"

"About as well as you could expect." That didn't sound good at all. Eric sighed and looked at the ground. I wanted to press him for more details about what exactly was going on, but I didn't think I was going to get them, and I realised that deep down, perhaps I didn't want to know.

Something about Victor made me deeply uncomfortable, and I was happy to keep out of his way as long as I could.

"I just wanted to say…" Eric began, and then he clearly thought better of it because he stepped forward and put his hands on my shoulders and kissed me, very lightly, on the lips.

It felt like a goodbye kiss and my heart seemed a little heavier at that thought.

Eric released me and then, without saying anything else, walked back into the office. As the door shut I heard Lafayette say "I knew there'd be benefits to that damn bright light he put back out here." He chuckled to himself and I looked over to see he was standing beside his car.

"Oh. Um…" I felt a little flustered knowing Eric and I had had an audience.

"Oh, don't worry about me, Sookie. I'm very discreet."

"OK."

"But anything you want to share…you feel free." Lafayette's teeth gleamed white as he grinned at me.

"Victor's here," I blurted out, and Lafayette's grin faded immediately. He looked around nervously, and then walked over to where I was standing, looking left and right as he did so. "Victor Madden?" he asked.

"Yeah. What's he like?"

"Trouble, that's what that damn man is. Sookie he is trouble and I mighta known Eric wouldn'ta got rid of him so easy. I know you like Eric and all, and I think you two is good together, but, Sookie, honey, you stay well away from Victor, you hear?"

"Is he that bad?"

"Bad don't cover it." Lafayette looked like he might say more, but instead he just folded his arms across his chest and looked at his feet. "Just stay away," he muttered, and then he turned around and walked off to his car.

"OK," I called after him. "I'll, uh…I'll take that advice. Bye, Lafayette."

"Goodbye, Sookie." With that he slammed his car door and sped off into the night. I followed him.

The next day I was still thinking about Victor, and his sudden appearance, and what exactly all of Lafayette's warnings and Eric's seeming concern about me meant, when I fronted up to the dance studio to go over the instructions for taking Claudine's classes for her.

"Hi!" Claudine said brightly, looking every inch the dancer. She was dressed head to toe in black, a strappy leotard and long leggings and silver strappy sandals on her feet.

I was dressed in a collection of workout clothes I'd bought at discount over the years. I felt like I'd failed at the first hurdle.

"Hi," I said back, placing my purse down on one of the chairs that were lined up in front of the big window. "So, uh, what do I need to know?"

Claudine beamed at me. "Let's do the fairy stuff first!" she said enthusiastically. I still wasn't enthusiastic about having to be a fairy.

"I don't know if I should really be teaching a bunch of kids," I said, as Claudine sat down and swapped her heels for some pink ballet slippers. "I mean…won't their mothers be upset that they've paid to have classes with a real teacher? And then they get me?"

"Oh no. I don't think they'll be upset at all." Claudine still sounded happy when she said that, but there was an edge to her voice. "Not that it's you taking the class, anyway."

I shrugged. "OK…so what do I do?"

"It's really simple," Claudine assured me, and then she set about showing me that it wasn't simple at all. There was a lot to remember and it wasn't just the actions to the songs that I had to memorise, but I had to remember how to get the kids to listen to me, which song got played at what time, when you got the wings out for the kids to wear, and how to dissuade them from all taking a bathroom break at the same time. On and on the list of instructions seemed to go.

"So, I think that's about it," Claudine said. "It's pretty straightforward really."

I thought that straightforward would have been making them skip in a circle for half an hour, but I could only do my best.

"So…let's move on the burlesque now!" Claudine suggested, and we did. Thankfully that was a little easier, mainly because it was a class I'd actually been attending. How my classmates would feel about my sudden elevation to teacher, i didn't know.

After we'd gone over the routines and the order I should do them in, Claudine took me out to the little storage room to show me where she kept the props for both classes. "Thanks a lot for doing this, Sookie. It's a load off my mind."

"That's OK. So I hope…whatever you're doing, goes OK?" I tried to remember if Claudine had said what her plans were, but she'd been vague.

"Oh. Yeah." She waved a hand dismissively. "It's family stuff…um, my family's a bit complicated."

"OK." I wasn't going to push her if she didn't want to elaborate. "So…um, what was the order for the songs for the fairies, again?"

Claudine looked thoughtful. "Maybe I should write some of this down for you?"

"That would be helpful."

"OK. I'll go and get a pad from the desk."

While Claudine drifted around looking for a pen and something to write on, I walked back out into the studio to find we were no longer alone. "Oh," said Claudine's brother Claude. "You're here too."

"Yep," I confirmed. Claude was wearing a white tank top, which was so loose that it managed to show most of his torso, and some short, tight, black and yellow running shorts. He made a great show of turning away from me and bending down to get a bottle of water out of the large sports bag that was sitting at his feet.

"OK, so I'll just write down the order of the songs and…" Claudine walked into the studio and stopped. "Claude, you can't just come in here any time you like."

Claude regarded Claudine coolly. "You said I could use this space to rehearse. I find the mirrors quite useful." He gave his reflection a half-smile. OK, that was a little odd.

"Is it just you?" Claudine asked.

"Today. Yes it is just me." Claudine sighed at Claude's answer. "Well I guess that's OK, then," she said.

As Claudine scribbled down notes and made the occasional comment about what she was writing, I watched Claude as he stretched. I realised that Claude probably liked me watching him, just a little bit too much. It made me feel uncomfortable and I looked away.

After a few minutes Claudine handed me the list she'd made. "I just better get you the spare keys," she said, and she disappeared out the back again.

"So…you still dance too, Claude?" I asked, thinking a little friendly conversation might make me a little less uncomfortable in Claude's presence.

"Yeah. I do sometimes. When it's Ladies Night." He shrugged and performed some kind of hip thrusting manoeuvre in front of the mirror.

"Um…you strip?"

Claude turned to face me full on. "Yeah."

"Oh. OK." I didn't want to seem judgemental and really, it was Claude's business what he did for a living.

"Are you enjoying Claudine's classes?" Claude asked me.

"I am," I said, happy the conversation was back on less dangerous ground.

"Claudine thinks you're very good."

"Well…she's a good teacher." Claude tsked at that. "You try to be modest, but you know she'd only ask you to teach if she thought you could do it well."

I shrugged. I wasn't really comfortable blowing my own horn. I got the feeling that Claude and I were completely unlike in that respect.

"You ever straighten your hair?" he asked me, completely out of the blue, as he came closer and examined my ponytail in great detail.

"Oh, um. No."

Claude continued to look at my hair. "It would suit you," he announced. "If it was straighter, it would absolutely gleam when the lights caught it."

"Lights?"

"On stage," Claude said, like that should have been obvious.

"I…I don't want to go on a stage…" I stammered. I was slightly worried I was being recruited for something I wouldn't really be happy doing.

Claude snorted; a not very attractive sound. "Of course you do."

I was about to open my mouth to protest, when Claudine breezed back in. "Claude!" she admonished. "Leave Sookie alone. She's doing me a favour and she doesn't need you butting in to her life."

"I'm only trying to help," Claude said, sounding pretty offended by Claudine's accusation.

"No. You're not. You can't help yourself, can you? Well, please try this time. I don't need anything else going wrong here. Sookie's on my side, remember?"

Um…there were sides now? I was starting to get a little uncomfortable again, stuck in the middle of some kind of sibling rivalry.

Claude sighed heavily. "I guess," he said slowly. "But you know that if you're having trouble with this place you could always…"

"Just shut up, Claude," Claudine said, icily. It was the first time I'd ever heard her sound anything other than friendly, polite and upbeat. And then it was like some switch had been flipped and she was back to her old self. "Here you go, Sookie! Just open up a little before the first class, and lock up after, OK?" She handed me a key attached to a small silver heart-shaped key ring.

"OK." I nodded, and went to slip the key into my purse, along with the page of notes Claudine had written out for me. I picked up my purse and slung it over my shoulder. Claude looked over at it and visibly winced. Fine. It wasn't my first choice of accessory either, but that had disappeared off with two muggers.

And then I had a thought.

"Say, Claude. Where is it that you, uh, perform?"

Claude smiled at me when I asked that. "Hooligans. You should come by and see the show. I know the bartender; I could get you free drinks." The way he leered as he said that told me volumes about his exact relationship with the bartender.

"Um…have you heard anything? About some of the dancers being followed? The female ones?"

Claude frowned at that. "Oh, that stuff always happens. People blow it out of all proportion. It's nice when the customers appreciate you."

I turned to Claudine who was staring daggers at Claude. He caught her expression and threw his hands up. "What? You know you're being paranoid."

"It's kinda odd though, that it's happening all over. I mean, Claudine's been followed and Claude's co-workers are being followed and…" I was about to add that I'd been actually attacked when I realised that Claudine was now looking at the floor, examining her nice silver sandals in minute detail.

Oh. I pasted a mask of indifference onto my face. "It's a family business," Claudine muttered.

"And, uh…" I'd been about to ask Claudine if she enjoyed it, but that sounded crass to my own ears. I was simply at a loss for what to say.

Claudine sighed. "And that's the problem," she said, pointing to me. "It's getting round and I don't want it getting round."

Claude rolled his eyes. "You're overly sensitive, you know that? So some people know you're working at Hooligans…"

"Dancing _burlesque_," Claudine said, enunciating the word carefully and clearly for my benefit. "Not stripping."

"So?" Claude finished.

"So, they won't want me teaching their kids. Or them. I tried to tell you it was a bad idea."

"And I said, you tell Dad."

Claude and Claudine glared at each other for several moments, seeming to have reached an impasse. I resisted the temptation to just scuttle out the door. After far longer than was comfortable, they remembered I was there.

"I can trust you, can't I Sookie?" Claudine asked.

"Of course you can. I promise I will lock up before I go!" I held my hand up as though I was taking an oath. "And…I won't gossip about you. I promise." I didn't always succeed in being a good person, but I sure did like to try.

Claudine smiled at me when I said that, but not as brilliantly as she usually did. "Thanks, Sookie. I really mean that, you know? Just, thank you." She walked over and took both my hands in hers.

"Oh. I'm just being a friend."

"A _good_ friend. And I could use one right now." Claudine released me and I looked over to see Claude roll his eyes.

"I better get going now. I got to get to work."

"OK. And you, uh, take care there, won't you Sookie?" Claudine asked me.

"Where'd you work?" Claude asked, suddenly curious.

"Vic's Redneck Roadhouse."

"Interesting." Claude nodded but didn't say anything else, and I walked out the door with a wave over my shoulder. I pretended that I couldn't see a couple of women outside the florist by the 7-Eleven staring across at me. Or maybe I just imagined there was more to their curiosity than was actually there.

I didn't like to think the worst about the people I'd lived with all my life, but I was also a realist. If Claudine thought that word was getting out that she was also working at Hooligans, then she was right to worry about the effect it might have on her studio.

And there wasn't a damn thing I could do about that.

After a trip home to shower, change and eat a salad, I headed out to the bar to begin work, the knot in my stomach tightening the closer I got. I was worried about how Eric was getting on with Victor, and I half-expected the place to be shut tonight, while Andy Bellefleur interviewed us all about the fraud that Victor had been committing.

But it wasn't. It was business as usual out in the bar and God knows what in Eric's office. His car was out in the parking lot, but he was nowhere to be seen.

Pam was back though. "So…how's it going? With, uh, Victor?" I asked her, as she sat at the bar wearing light-blue capri pants and a white sleeveless blouse patterned with tiny blue daisies.

"Oh, well. It's going _marvellously_, Sookie."

I decided not to take offence at her sarcasm. "So...uh, you think Eric'll be around tonight."

"I hope so. But I don't know." Pam looked at me kindly. "Say, uh, I was thinking…last night, when I was stuck on the phone trying to get Immanuel to keep his arse in rehab…that, uh. Well, I'm sorry."

"You're…sorry?" Pam nodded, which didn't make me any the less confused. "For?"

She sighed. "I think it's obvious," she muttered, mostly to herself. "For trying to push you and Eric together. It wasn't one of my better ideas."

That was not what I had been expecting. "Um…why the change of heart?" I asked her. Somehow Pam's sudden turnaround on the Eric and Sookie question made me feel a little sad.

This was a silly thought to have. I shouldn't be seeing the night before as anything more than a...a…fumble in the bosses' office. It had been unwise on my part, but not something I needed to get hung up about. I should be thankful it hadn't gone any further, and I really shouldn't be paying attention to that little voice in my head telling me to go and find Eric and check that he was OK.

"I think I have realised that sometimes it's just better to leave it alone, and not take on someone else's shit." Pam sounded bitter.

"So…you think that's what'd happen? If Eric and I…?" I left that hanging.

"I think that Eric has more than enough on his plate right now. And I think that he probably isn't the best man to set your cap at. He's not particularly…available. He doesn't do well getting close to people. I like you. I'd hate to see you start to…well, care for him. And end up getting hurt."

"Well, I think I'm pretty safe in that regard." I said that brightly, and with a smile on my face but a voice in my head was saying _too late, too late_.

"I'm sure you are Sookie. After all, you've resisted him so far." Pam looked confident in her assessment and it took her a moment to catch my expression. I didn't want to lie to her.

"Oh. Right, Sookie. I see. Well, I'm sure that you'll be able to…well. I don't want to interfere at all. Any more than I have, anyway." Pam gave me an apologetic look. "But I can always be a shoulder to cry on?" She raised her eyebrows and looked kind of hopeful.

"I bet you'd be a great shoulder, Pam."

"And, after all, you survived the break-up with Bill." She nodded at a point above my shoulder.

"What?" I asked, confused by the sudden change in subject, and then Bill said "Sookie," in his cool, deep voice.

"Oh. Hey, Bill." I whirled around to face him. "What brings you in tonight? Drink? Dinner? You, uh, you meeting anyone?"

Bill smiled at me. "That's a lot of questions, Sookie."

"Well Sookie is our best investigator; it's important that we understand our customer's needs." Pam smirked and Bill looked a little unsure.

"You've met Pam, right?" I checked, and Bill nodded, but he didn't seem to warm to Pam any. "Great, so you can take a seat and I'll be right over…unless you're here to see Eric?"

"Why would I be here for Eric?" Bill asked, and then he frowned. "What did he do?" he asked sharply.

I stifled a giggle. "You know, you and Eric are a lot alike sometimes," I said. Bill frowned and Pam looked mildly interested, but she didn't press the point.

"I'll just go and sit down then," Bill said, when he realised I wasn't going to elaborate, and he left. "I think there's only one thing they have in common…" Pam said to me, raising her eyebrows.

"Oh, I hope not." I turned away from Pam, hoping that the thing they had in common wasn't the fact that I'd been heart-sick over the realisation Bill and I weren't suited, and I was about to go through the same thing with Eric.

When I went over to take Bill's order, he, rather stiffly, gestured to a chair beside him. "Will you sit for a moment, Sookie?"

I looked around, and judged the bar to be none too busy, so I took a seat opposite Bill, rather than the one beside that he'd indicated. I was all about keeping the space between us these days.

Bill pressed his thin lips together and looked like he had something he wanted to say. "So, what is it?" I asked him.

"I've heard…some things..." Bill said, keeping his voice low, as though someone might overhear. The bar was pretty empty and those that were here, like Jason, who was with that girl from Hot Shot again, weren't really interested in what Bill was saying.

He may have been over-reacting just a little.

"What things?" I asked him.

"About that…dance class." Bill gave me a significant look.

"About the dance teacher you mean?"

"Sookie, I'm not here passing on idle gossip. I'm here to say…" Bill paused and thought for a moment. "Just be careful."

"And try not to get tarred with the same brush?"

Bill sighed. "Look. I know that you shouldn't judge people, but not everyone here is that….that…"

"As sophisticated as you are? No, us poor hicks find it a little hard to grasp these big-city ideas, like tolerance and understanding." I was getting more than a little pissed at Bill, coming in here and telling me to be careful about hanging around Claudine.

"Sookie, I'm not trying to tell you how to live your life. But you have to live here as well, and people will talk."

"People like you…and…and the Bellefleurs? Is that what y'all do on a Sunday afternoon? Sit around and talk about me and how low I've sunk?" I threw that out in the heat of my anger but I couldn't miss the way Bill's expression changed from irritated to uncomfortable as I said it.

I hated, just hated, the idea that they'd been talking about me. That they all felt _sorry _for me. Poor Sookie, she had a good job, she had a nice boyfriend, she lost it all and now she's consorting with strippers. I felt hot tears pricking the back of my eyes.

"I have to go back to work," I muttered, and I stood up. Bill tried to grab my arm. "Sookie. Sweetheart."

"Don't Bill. Just don't." I didn't know why he'd come rushing in here to warn me off Claudine. Maybe he thought it would reflect badly on him, given as we'd dated. Maybe he thought I'd be so grateful I'd go running back into his arms.

Maybe he just wanted to hurt me because I'd hurt him.

I didn't want to stick around to find out. I had customers…at least three of them, and if all else failed I could go and join Dawn in giving the evil-eye to the girl Jason was currently balancing on his lap. I wasn't going to hang around Bill longer than I had to.

Except that as annoyed as I was with him in that moment, I was still his waitress. And business was business. I turned back around. "So…can I get you anything, Bill?"

He sighed, and twisted the salt shaker in one hand. "You can get me a beer," he said in the end. Possibly that was the first and only time I'd seen Bill order beer, and maybe he was just doing it to appease me. I didn't know and I was past the point of caring.

I didn't see Eric once in the whole rest of the night, although Victor, at one stage, came out to make a triumphant tour around the bar. "It's mighty quiet, tonight," he boomed at Ginger, who shrank back, just a little.

"Tuesday's ain't popular," she muttered, and then she hurried off. Victor walked to the bar and ordered a scotch from Long Shadow. I was there, placing a drink order, and he got awful close to me.

"Nice to see a few new things around here, isn't it Long Shadow?" Victor asked cheerfully, all the time looking intently at the word Redneck splashed across my chest.

Long Shadow shrugged. "Some is better than others," he said, and then he turned away from us.

"I better get back to my customers," I said to Victor.

"Mmm. Best keep the boss happy, I suppose. Does he crack the whip much, Sookie?" You couldn't mistake Victor's leer when he said that and I chose not to respond at all, I just left to the sound of Victor chuckling behind me.

Asshole.

Bill paid up and left me a very generous tip which really didn't make up for the fact he was talking about me behind my back just like I'd seen Long Shadow and Victor whispering to each other as I walked by. I didn't understand what was suddenly so goddamn interesting about me and my life.

Victor eventually went out the back, I guess to Eric's office again. Eric never appeared. I went home feeling a heavy cloud of sadness ready to settle over me.

The next day though, I was scheduled to be substitute fairy for Claudine and I had to shake off my black mood and just get on with it. After all, you couldn't be a grumpy fairy, could you?

Possibly my first pupil to arrive hadn't got that message. "OK, MOMMA!" she yelled, as she burst through the door of the studio. "I KNOW!" An exasperated looking woman wearing old-fashioned jeans and a plaid shirt followed her. "I was just asking, Marlena," the woman said, sounding more like a brow-beaten sibling than a parent.

So this could be interesting.

"Hi!" I said, as brightly and fearlessly as I could manage. "I'm Sookie, and I'll be taking the class today."

"Where's Miss Claudine?" Marlena demanded.

"She…uh, she had to go back to, uh…fairy-land…" I realised, too late, that the one thing I hadn't covered off with Claudine was how far we were taking the whole fairy thing.

Apparently, it wasn't as far as I'd gone with it. Marlena rolled her eyes and stood with one hand on her hip and looked far, far older than she was. "Sookie, I appreciate you're new, but I'm not a baby, OK?"

"OK," I agreed. I could now kind of appreciate where Marlena's mother was coming from.

"So where's Miss Claudine?"

"She had a…a…prior engagement. Family business."

Marlena huffed. "Well, that ain't right. My momma paid good money for a real teacher for me. I want to be a dancer, like those ones on TV? Get me to Hollywood and get an agent and stuff, and then get into movies. So you know, I need real teaching."

I wasn't sure how skipping in a circle wearing fairy wings was really going to get Marlena the glittering dance career she wanted. Or maybe she'd get there through sheer determination and it wouldn't matter a damn either way.

"I'm the teacher," I said. "'For today, I'm your teacher."

That didn't seem to appease Marlena much, but she stalked back over to where her mother was sitting and decided to take it out on her instead. I breathed a silent sigh of relief.

Another two girls drifted in, brought by one woman. They sat apart from Marlena and that didn't seem to bother her. "Have you seen my skirt, Momma?" she was asking, while pulling stuff out of a pink backpack with a picture of Barbie on the front.

"No," Marlena's mother ventured, which earned her an annoyed look.

I went over to the two newcomers. "Hi. I'm Sookie, and I'm taking the class today. And you are?"

The taller of the two girls looked at me. "You're not Miss Claudine," she said, and then she turned to the woman who'd brought her. "Ana? Ana did you know that Miss Claudine wouldn't be here?"

Ana shrugged and looked at her phone. "I'm the babysitter. I just do what your mother says. She says bring you two to dancing, I bring you."

"Huh," the girl said. "Well, I'm Alicia and this is my annoying little sister Gabby." I waited for Gabby to contradict that statement, but she was too busy swinging her legs and picking her nose. "Is Candace here yet?" Alicia asked me.

"I…it's just the three of you, so far," I answered, gesturing to Marlena.

"Oh." Alicia didn't look impressed at that. Gabby just removed her finger from her nostril and wiped it on the edge of her chair.

I began to think Claudine was either a saint or a masochist in running these classes. I walked over to where Claudine said she kept the class list. Yep, I was due to have ten students.

I wasn't sure I could cope with another seven like these three. And, as it turned out, I didn't have to. Two more girls showed up, separately, and then that seemed to be that.

I started class and tried to pretend that I couldn't see the last two mothers to arrive whispering behind their hands. "No," Ana the babysitter said loud enough for me to hear. "No, Mrs Seeby didn't say nothing about the teacher to me. Where you hear that?"

Good grief. Did people around here having nothing to do but sit around and pass on gossip?

And so I took my fairies through their paces. We skipped, we pranced, and we sat in a circle with our feet in the middle and flexed and pointed our toes while chanting "Good toes, naughty toes." I spread a glitter eyeshadow over the girls' faces and then we put on silky wings and flew around the room before going to sleep under an imaginary toadstool.

We pretended it was just like any other class, in other words. Sure, there were a few eye-rolls from Marlena, and Gabby barely did anything you asked of her, preferring to continue examining the contents of her nose, but I figured that was probably par for the course when Claudine was running the show too.

What wasn't par for the course, though, was the weird undercurrent of annoyance coming from the seats where the adults were stationed and the barrage of questions I got from the moms and the babysitter at the end of the lesson. "So that Miss Claudine, she gone now?" Ana asked me.

"No. No, she just couldn't make today."

"So…are _you_ her replacement? Are you qualified?" asked Marlena's mom.

"No. I'm just filling in today."

"Why isn't she here? Is she trying to hide from us? Is it true, what they're saying?" This was from another of the mothers.

"I think you'll have to ask Claudine that." I was feeling decidedly backed into a corner.

The same mother persisted, though. "Who are you anyway? I don't know you from a bar of soap."

Well, that was mutual. "I'm Sookie Stackhouse. I'm Claudine's friend."

"Humph," the woman said, sounding decidedly unimpressed. "You work with her? At her other job?" She gave me a significant look.

"Oh. No. I don't work at Dillard's. I'm a waitress." The woman raised her eyebrows at her companions. "At Vic's Redneck Roadhouse," I added, but it didn't seem to make them any happier. I didn't think anything would make them happy. I watched Gabby as she twirled on the spot looking like she didn't have a care in the world.

I thought it might be nice to be Gabby right about then.

"I can't tell if it's better or worse having you," one of the mothers muttered, loudly and rudely.

"She didn't know where to put the glitter on my face!" Marlena, having hovered beside her mother long enough to realise that the adults were less than pleased with me, decided she would enter the fray as well. I'd bet that she was a real treat in the school yard.

I took a deep breath and summoned my brightest smile. "Thanks so much for bearing with me today. Marlena, you sure were a big help to me!" Marlena adopted an expression somewhere between a smile and a sneer. "But I think that if you have any questions, then Claudine is the best person to answer them, when she's back in the saddle!" I really did hope I wasn't setting Claudine up for something awful, but I simply didn't think I'd ever please these women with any of the answers I could give them.

I adopted as pleasant an expression as I could muster, and the women seemed to take the hint and started gathering up their belongings and their small girls. There was a nasty moment when I thought that maybe Gabby had been left behind and she was now my problem but Alicia reappeared in the doorway and yelled "Gabby! Ana says get in the car NOW!" and Gabby scuttled out the door after her.

I breathed a sigh of relief. One class down, one to go, and burlesque was bound to be easier.

It wasn't.

Amelia showed up first, and at least she looked happy to be there, and to see me. "I'm taking the class, for Claudine," I informed her.

"No Claudine? Really?" Amelia looked a little taken aback. "Oh, that's a shame. Oh well."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence."

"No. I just meant…well you know. She OK?"

"I think so." I hoped so.

After that a few members of the class started to drift in, but, like the mothers of the fairies before them, they all wanted to know where Claudine was, and mostly, they wanted to know if the rumours they'd heard were true.

Telling them that I couldn't really comment didn't seem to appease them none. And most of those who'd shown up seemed to be itching for some kind of showdown and weren't terribly happy that I was here fronting up instead of Claudine.

"I think it's mighty suspicious," Lorinda Prescott muttered to Christy Aubert. "We hear this stuff and then 'poof!' she just disappears on us. I paid for one of them concession cards, you think I'm gonna get my money back?"

"Oh, I don't think she'd do that." That was Michele Schubert chiming in. "She's way too nice."

Christy snorted. "Of course she is. I bet she's nice to all her other customers too."

In the interests of trying to get everyone to focus on something other than Claudine's absence, I started the class even though there were only a few people there. No one else joined and to my annoyance, the grown up women were harder to control than their tiny counterparts in the fairy class had been. Sure, they didn't need to all take a bathroom break together, but they were far more interested in their own speculations than on any dancing.

"OK, so let's get the props out…" I said, but I might as well have been talking to myself. "You know," Delia Shurtliff said. "Lindsey probably had the best idea not coming tonight. I think it's real suspicious that Claudine's left us high and dry."

I'd been trying to keep out of the speculation and general air of disgruntlement, but I had had enough. "Claudine has not left you high and dry," I said. "She's asked me to fill in so you wouldn't have to miss a class."

"Well, that's mighty fine for you, Sookie, you're getting some money out of this, I bet. And we all know you've been struggling." Lorinda Prescott looked me in the eye, daring me to disagree. And then she looked like a lightbulb had appeared above her head. "Say, she ain't tried to recruit you, has she Sookie?"

"Recruit?"

"Yeah. As a dancer…or whatever. In that club." Lorinda's eyebrows knitted together in concern for, I guess, my reputation. Great, another person who viewed me as nothing more than 'poor Sookie' down on her luck and ripe for the picking.

"Lorinda, I don't know what you're talking about," I said, and Christy Aubert jumped in. "See? She's been keeping everyone in the dark."

"Oh. No. I knew." Everyone turned to Amelia when she said that. "I was curious about the club. It's not that bad." I may have imagined it, but I was pretty sure the other women took a step away from Amelia when she said that.

The good folk of Bon Temps were circling the wagons and this was my moment to decide where I stood.

"I think that all of us have better things to do than listen to gossip and try to ruin someone's character when she isn't here to defend herself. I simply don't think that's what our town is about, do you?" Well, of course everyone nodded and agreed with me that no, we weren't like that at all.

But, like I said, I'm a realist. I knew that wasn't the end of the matter.

So when the class ended and even Amelia, who'd tried to cheer me up at the end with a bunch of idle chatter and her impression of how Hooligan's "Wasn't all that bad really, it's quite classy when you compare it some places," had left, I locked up and started the drive home.

I was not looking forward to being alone with my own thoughts and a bucketful of worries that I couldn't solve for love nor money. But as it turned out, I didn't have to be. As I parked my car I could see that Eric was sitting on the porch swing at the front of my house. He was wearing a green t-shirt, some of those cargo shorts and, most strangely of all, flip-flops.

I switched off the engine and sat still for just a moment. Even though I couldn't see his features sharply, I was more than aware that Eric was staring straight at me and I needed a moment to gather my thoughts. I took a big breath in, and then I got out of the car and walked up the steps to greet him.

"You weren't here," he said, somewhat accusingly, as I drew near.

"Well, I was at my dance class. It's why I don't work Wednesdays, remember?" Eric looked at me like this was new information, but I guess he decided not to pursue it. I unlocked the door. "Come on in then."

Eric followed me inside, neither of us saying anything. I walked up the hallway and through to the kitchen. "Can I get you a drink?" I asked Eric, as he hovered in the doorway behind me.

"Um. OK." He didn't seem enthused.

"I have um…" I opened up the refrigerator and had a look. "There's tea. Sweet tea…or I have Coke or, um…"

"The Coke will be fine, Sookie."

I put some ice into a tall glass and poured a can of Coke out for Eric, setting the empty can on the kitchen counter ready to be recycled. I handed it to him, and he thanked me.

I felt a little uncomfortable, though. "I have to, uh…take a shower." The dance classes had left me sweaty and dishevelled and I didn't feel like I'd be a good hostess until I got myself together. "Make yourself at home. The living room's through there."

Eric looked at where my arm was pointing, and then he walked in there. I followed him in, and then, hoping that he'd be OK on his own, I continued on to the hallway and down into my bedroom. I took a clean bra and panties, t-shirt and shorts out of my drawers and then went into the little ensuite bathroom.

Once under the cool running water of the shower I had a moment of panic when I wondered if Eric might try to surprise me in here. I wasn't used to locking the bathroom door; I normally had no need to, after all. I couldn't remember if I'd locked it this time, and I was torn between getting out and checking if it was, and just showering as quickly as I could before Eric appeared.

I finished my shower. Eric hadn't decided to barge into the bathroom, and I was thankful for that. He hadn't stayed in the living room though, and when I stepped back into my bedroom, still drying my hair with a towel, Eric was sitting on the slipper chair beside my bed waiting for me.

It was a weird thing, seeing Eric suddenly occupying the room that was all mine. Had been all mine since Gran had died and I'd moved into the bigger bedroom. He reached out and idly touched one of Gran's china ladies which still sat on the dressing table and I had to resist the urge to tell him to leave it alone in case he broke it. He then picked up the bottle of Obsession I'd had for years and years and barely worn and sniffed that.

I wasn't sure quite what to say to him, or what he wanted, so I carried on with my original plan, which was to brush my hair. I walked over to the dressing table and sat on the small stool in front of it and picked up my hairbrush and started brushing. Eric just watched me without comment.

When I was done I put the hairbrush down. "You want something to eat?" I asked Eric.

"OK."

We traipsed back down the kitchen, me leading the way and Eric following behind, slightly too close for comfort. I was still unsure as to why he was here, or what he expected, but, in the meantime, I had to come up with a plan for feeding him.

"Sandwich?" I asked him. I hadn't been planning on anything particularly fancy for myself.

Eric sat down at the kitchen table and nodded. I made two ham sandwiches, on whole-wheat bread, and then opened a bag of chips and added some to each plate. I refreshed Eric's Coke and poured myself a tea and then I sat down opposite him.

"So, the bar managing OK without you tonight?" I asked.

Eric swallowed a mouthful of his sandwich. "I expect so," he said, but he didn't elaborate.

"Pam will keep everyone in line," I commented, and Eric helped himself to some chips and nodded.

The conversation sure was tough going and I wasn't sure what else to try. Eric kept watching me, but he didn't say anything.

I resolved I was going to have to try to draw whatever it was out of him. I waited until after we'd finished eating. I cleared the table, rinsed our dishes and placed them in the dishwasher. Eric drifted back outside to the porch again, and I found him sitting back on the swing. The sun was starting to set and the insects were doing their best to alert us to the coming darkness.

I sat down next to Eric and twisted slightly, so I was facing him. "Eric," I said, quietly, like you might speak to a horse when you're trying not to spook it. "What's going on?"

"On?" he asked. "Too much." He leaned forward and put his elbows on his knees, clasping his hands between them.

"So…Victor is?"

"Still here. Still fucking here." Eric sounded particularly bitter about that fact.

"And he's here because?"

Eric sighed and sat back, staring out at the trees that bordered the property. He didn't look at me. I waited.

"He's here because he's come to collect the rest of the money I owe him." He paused and looked at me. I kept my face as neutral as possible. "We negotiated that I would pay the rest of the purchase price at a later date… I didn't have all the funds available then. This is the later date."

"And you haven't called the police about the money he's been taking?" I still thought there was something not quite right about that scenario, I couldn't understand why Victor was doing it, especially with this new information that Eric owed him money, but the question had to be asked.

"It's complicated." Eric was trying to shut me down.

"Eric, everything's complicated."

"This isn't," he said. "This isn't complicated…is it?" he finally turned to face me.

"I…" I thought that it, whatever it was, was very complicated. At least from where I was sitting it was. But Eric looked so hopeful in that moment, that I didn't want to let him down. "Why are you here, Eric?" I tried to make that a genuine question, not a demand. I just wanted to know.

"I just thought…well, I wanted." Eric stopped, looked out at the woods, and then looked at me again. "I just wanted to be with a friend," Eric said. "I just wanted to be here. With you, Sookie."

I reached out and put my hand over his, and I felt a little of the tension between us evaporate. This was OK, wasn't it? We were friends, and I was more than happy to have a friend drop by when he needed me.

Eric turned his hand over and clasped mine and we sat like for a moment, both looking at the hands we were holding, and then I leaned forward towards Eric and he must have leaned as well, and somehow we met in the middle. And we kissed.

That kiss changed everything.

I couldn't believe that only moments earlier I'd been thinking pleasant thoughts about what a good friend I was being to Eric. Now being his friend was the furthest thing from my mind.

I reached up and ran my hand through Eric's hair, while I used the other to rub his back, as though I was still trying to offer him some comfort. Eric's hands, one of which he'd clamped to the back of my head, and the other he'd slid under my bottom, were causing little electric jolts all through me. I wanted him to touch me everywhere.

After a few moments in this position Eric pulled me so I was straddling his lap, his hands were on either side of my torso and he clamped his mouth on my breast.

I wished more than anything, that I wasn't still wearing my t-shirt and bra. I remembered how good his tongue had felt the other night and I wanted more of that. I wanted more of everything. I was just simply too lost for words to tell Eric that.

Eric was clearly had his own thoughts about what should be going on. He stood up, taking me with him. "Bed?" he asked.

"Bed," I confirmed, glad that I still had enough wits to answer basic questions.

He carried me into the house, down the hall and into my now almost-dark bedroom, where we tumbled onto the bed, arms and legs tangled together.

Eric drew back and looked at me, pushing my slightly wild hair out of my eyes. He smiled and looked the happiest he had since I'd arrived home and found him waiting for me.

I leaned forward and kissed him, hard. I wanted him more than I'd ever wanted anyone. I would have ripped open his skin and crawled inside him if I could have in that moment. This was desire, pure and simple.

This was better than any of the books I'd ever read.

Eric drew back and pulled off his t-shirt and I took the opportunity to pull my own over my head. He stood up and unbuttoned his shorts, before pushing them off, along with his underwear. I took a moment to look at him, and I felt myself grow hot all over. If I wanted Eric, then he wanted me too. You could really tell. The fading light coming in through the windows highlighted the curves and plains of Eric's muscles and his not unimpressive erection. I allowed myself a moment of hesitation and then my desire overrode it. On we went.

Eric joined me back on the bed and tried to help me pull my shorts down, only it wasn't such a smooth manoeuvre as he didn't realise the button and zip wasn't undone. "Wait," I said to him, unbuttoning the shorts myself.

"I don't want to wait anymore," he said. He probably wasn't talking about the shorts.

"Me either." I lost the shorts, and then my bra and panties in quick succession.

Now we were both naked and I could finally get the contact I craved. We lay side by side, kissing, our hands drifting over each other's bodies. Eric palmed my nipple and ran his hand down my body to caress my hip, brushed the soft curls down there, and moved his hand back up again.

I stroked his chest, his back, his arm and then, when curiosity got the better of me, I shuffled a little down the bed and reached down to grasp Eric's erection, stroking it gently. Eric made a noise of appreciation, and I kept going, kissing and licking his chest as I did so.

"My turn," he said, and he pushed me back on the bed and hovered over me. His mouth blazed a trail down my body, taking in my nipples, my stomach, my hips, my thighs and then travelling back up to enjoy…oh yes. The place I'd been longing for more friction, more contact, more of anything.

I think I made some noises, they may have been words. _Eric_ and _yes_ and _more_ might have been some of those words. I couldn't really say. I was lost to the sensations Eric was creating with his mouth, his tongue and when he added his fingers I felt the delicious tension building and building and building, until I was almost…I was just…it was going to happen. I climaxed and the relief was wonderful. For the brief time that it lasted.

I opened my eyes and gazed at Eric. I wanted to say something, but it would have sounded trite and like something out of a romance novel. This wasn't about that. This was about me and Eric and just…well, sex.

Sex was fantastic. Sex with Eric was a revelation. My night was certainly looking up.

I felt Eric's erection pressing against my thigh as he lay next to me, gently stroking my breast. "Um…condom?" I asked. Eric turned around and looked in the direction of his clothes. "There's some in the nightstand," I said, and I rolled over to open the drawer.

I passed a small foil packet to Eric and wordlessly he opened it and put it on. "All right?" he asked me.

"More than all right."

I lay on my back and Eric positioned himself above me and he entered me. Oh, if I thought I'd felt relief before it was nothing compared to this. Yes. This was what I needed, what I'd craved.

Eric started moving, I placed my feet flat on the bed and I moved with him. I marvelled at how natural this felt, how comfortable I was laying here in the cage made by Eric's arms as he braced himself above me. I stopped thinking and I just…felt. I didn't care about the world out there, about the people who had nothing better to do than talk about me, or Claudine, about the bar, about Victor, about everything. I was here and I was happy, and I was happy we were doing this.

And Eric shifted slightly, and he hitched my leg up higher on his hip. I clutched at his back and pulled him closer to me. Before I knew it another orgasm started to build and I felt myself tumbling over the edge into that wonderful, blissful, relief again.

Eric's movements grew faster, and then, he too, reached his end, with a muffled groan into my hair as he did so.

We lay still for a moment, enjoying the closeness, and then he pulled back and walked to the bathroom. I stretched out on my bed, like a cat waking up from a long nap in the sun. Eric came back into the room, leaving the light on in the bathroom. When he lay down beside me again, it illuminated half of his face.

"Are you OK?" he asked me.

"I'm more than that," I replied. I stretched again, lifting my arms over my head. "I am…" I searched for the right word. "Satiated."

Eric chuckled, and it was a pleasing sound to hear. I rolled onto my side and put my hand on his chest feeling both his heartbeat and the vibrations from his laughter.

"How about you?" I asked him.

"I…am…" Eric began, punctuating each word with a kiss to my neck and my shoulder. "Absolutely…satisfied…and…especially…glad…I…called …by."

Now it was my turn to laugh. This might not be the way that most casual drop-ins went, but it had worked for Eric and me.

We stayed like that for a long time, kissing and petting and saying nonsensical things to make the other laugh. It was like the whole world had disappeared and there was only us, and boy, was I determined to make the most of that, of having Eric all to myself and my worries no longer at the forefront of my mind.

And then, when Eric was showing signs of being up for more again, I pushed him onto his back and straddled him, rubbing myself up and down his growing erection. "Now I have you where I want you," I said, looking down at him. "You're mine." I laughed, as though this was another one of the jokes we'd been making.

"Yes," Eric said simply, and without much laughter. I didn't dwell on that though, if Eric was ready again, then so was I. I pulled another condom out of my drawer and rolled it onto Eric and then I lowered myself down onto him, slowly, drawing it out for as long as I could stand it, aching to have him sheathed inside me again.

And when I began to rock, backwards and forwards, and then around and around, I looked down at Eric, at those deep, deep blue eyes of his and I felt beautiful and powerful and like nothing anyone could say could make me feel less. And when I'd moved so much that I only had one place to go, I went there, crashing into another orgasm that left me breathless and laying on Eric's chest.

He rolled me over, so I was on my back, and he thrust into me, a little raggedly and a little desperately, and then he finished as well.

"That was..." I sighed, but Eric cut me off with a kiss. He pulled out and walked to the bathroom again, and, when he came out, I took my turn to clean up. I thought about finding a nightgown, but decided against it.

It wasn't only at burlesque class that I could play that sexy character.

I switched off the light and walked back into my bedroom to find Eric back in my bed, and under the covers. I joined him and enjoyed the feeling of the cool cotton sheets against my over-heated skin. My body felt tired and a little used, but it was a good feeling.

I closed my eyes and felt the bed shift as Eric moved closer to me. We lay silent in the darkness for a while, and I wondered if I should say something, but I didn't know what I could say. Thank you for my orgasms? We can't do this again? You're the only friend I do this with?

Where do we go from here?

I didn't have the energy for any of those conversations, not right then. Morning would come soon enough, and it would bring all my worries back again, and no doubt Eric's too.

And so we lay there. After a while, I reached over and took Eric's hand again, and we were back to where we started. "Goodnight, Eric," I whispered.

"Goodnight, Sookie." And then everything was darkness.

**Thanks for reading!**


	18. Chapter 18

**IMPORTANT NOTICE: When I posted the last chapter, alerts weren't working. If the last thing you remember is Eric and Sookie being interrupted in his office by Victor, then go back to chapter 17 now!**

**Otherwise, if you are one of the readers who still managed to find the last chapter, please feel free to carry on reading, and enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: Not mine.**

I woke up the next morning when the sun hit my face; the curtains had been open all night. The bed smelt of Eric and sex and I found that curiously comforting, even though, as I discovered, I was alone in it.

Eric had left during the night.

Strangely, I was almost thankful for that. I may have been in the mood for sex the night before…very much in the mood. But I wasn't in the mood for an awkward conversation this morning, or of having to watch my boss locate his underpants on the floor of my bedroom while I debated whether or not to make him coffee before he left.

No, sometimes we just had to accept the fleeting moments for what they were. And I'd enjoyed the sex, so…I was going to move on with my day. And do something productive.

I idly wondered if perhaps Eric had left me a note, and whether I should go in search of one, but I decided that wouldn't be a productive exercise at all. Even if there was a note, which I highly doubted, I suspected it wouldn't contain anything that would make me feel better. It might even make me feel worse. So I put that idea out of my mind and hauled myself out of bed.

I took a long, hot shower and then I debated what my something productive would be while I drank my coffee and ate some Special K, feeling somewhat virtuous at my choice of breakfast. At a loss for anything else, I decided on cleaning. Specifically I would clean the bathrooms. Thoroughly. That would keep me busy and stop me brooding about anything.

And it did, for a while anyway. Cleaning the grout in between the tiles with an old toothbrush kept me nicely occupied while I tried to clean off the grime that had accumulated there. And then it was done, and both bathrooms shone brighter than they had done in a while, and I was nothing but a hot, sweaty girl alone in a house that was really too big for just her.

I was determined not to give in to the melancholy that was pushing on the edges of my brain. I made the most of having a nice, clean bathroom and took another shower, and then I got out and the house was still empty and I was still alone and it was still hours until I was due at work.

I gave myself a mental shake. I had no reason to sit here and feel sorry for myself. Not when I'd been perfectly happy with my own company the day before, and the day before that…and really, for as long as I'd been living here alone. It wasn't like Eric was such great company anyway. Mostly he'd just sat there, not talking. And he'd touched a lot of my stuff.

And he'd touched me. And I'd liked having that physical presence, not just in my bed, but in my house. I'd liked sitting on the porch swing with him and watching the sun set…

And I needed to find something else to focus on. I got up from the dressing table where I'd been sitting and walked through to the kitchen. From there I surveyed my garden. I was sure there was something out there I could do.

The sound of my phone ringing cut through the silence and I jumped at it, before tsking and picking it up to answer it. I was being silly, hoping this might be Eric. It probably wasn't Eric.

It wasn't Eric. It was Amelia. "Oh, hey Sookie!" she said brightly.

"Hi, Amelia." I tried to keep my voice neutral, but it sounded, I thought, a little flat. I hoped Amelia didn't think me rude. I wasn't trying to be, I was just…I didn't like to say disappointed, but I was something anyway, that my caller was Amelia.

"So…um. I'm not working today and I was wondering if you wanted to catch up?" Amelia sure sounded enthusiastic about that idea and I tried to shake myself out of my funk. Why would I wish the call to be anyone else other than Amelia? At least she wanted to spend time with me.

"Sure," I replied. "Why don't you come out and have lunch with me?" I gave Amelia directions out to my place and disconnected the call. And then I hurried around the house tidying up while I awaited her arrival.

Half an hour later I heard the crunch of tyres on the gravel and Amelia's car came into view around the side of the house. I went outside to greet her.

"I made it!" Amelia said, as she climbed out of her car. I waited up for the follow up comment about the driveway, but it didn't come. Clearly, Amelia wasn't Eric.

"My God, though. It's hot today!" She fanned herself with her hand as she walked up the steps to join me on the porch.

"It is," I agreed, as I led Amelia inside. She stopped just inside the door and I could quite clearly see the moment when she registered there was no air-conditioning installed in my house. She'd dropped her hand to her side as she entered and rapidly lifted it to begin fanning the air again. "Ceiling fan's on in the living room," I said, leading the way.

"Oh. Well. That'll help." Amelia didn't seem convinced at that, although she took a seat on the couch and looked up at the ceiling fan all the same. "Tea?" I asked.

"Please." I filled two glasses with ice and sweet tea and returned to the living room where Amelia was glaring at the fan as though she could turn it into air conditioning by the sheer force of her will.

If she could, I hoped she did it soon. I was feeling mighty hot and sweaty myself. "So, you're not working today?" I asked Amelia, when it didn't seem like she was going to start the conversation.

She shook her head and put her glass down on the coffee table. "Nope. Greg only needs me part-time so I have a couple of days free a week, just depends what's happening. And there's only so many days I can hang out with Octavia. She's OK, but…" Amelia drifted off, assuming, perhaps, that I knew what else her mother's friend was.

"It's just kind of lonely, you know?" Amelia finished, before she picked up her glass and took a big gulp of her tea. I did know what that was like. I nodded too. Perhaps my life had been easier when I'd worked days and not evenings, perhaps it was just I'd had too many years of waiting for something to happen and somehow it never had. Whatever the reason, I was sure feeling melancholy and a little sick of my own company at the moment.

"You OK?" Amelia asked, cocking her head to one side and looking at me. I hadn't pegged Amelia as the perceptive type, and I was a little worried about how much melancholy I was projecting. I didn't want her to take it personally.

"I was just thinking…about Claudine," I said.

"Yeah. See, that's a nasty business. I don't even want to know what some of those people must be saying about her. What I've heard is bad enough." Amelia shook her head. "I mean, you hear what it's like in small town, but you think in this day and age it'll be different, you know?"

"Would it be that much better in New Orleans?" I asked her.

A small crease appeared between Amelia's brows as she considered that. "Well…I…" Amelia grasped for the right words. "I hope so," she said in the end.

"Me too." Now we both looked a little down in the mouth.

"How about some lunch?" I suggested, hoping I'd have something to offer that would suit Amelia. After some deliberation in the kitchen we settled on tuna salad and set about making it together. I had to admit that, after usually doing these kinds of things alone, it was fun having someone else in the kitchen with me, draining the tuna while I was slicing tomatoes.

We sat at the kitchen table to eat, with refilled glasses of sweet tea in front of us. "You're lucky, living out here," Amelia announced.

"I am?" I hadn't thought that my old farmhouse bordering a cemetery and some woods would really be Amelia's ideal location.

"Yeah. I like the…quiet. Plus, it's only you. No one else to bother about." Amelia sighed heavily and dug her fork into her salad.

"I guess. Sometimes it would be nice to have some company."

"That depends on the company," Amelia said, ruefully.

We finished up our lunch and then I took Amelia on a tour of the house. "So you don't use the upstairs at all?" Amelia asked, as I pointed up the stairs.

"Nope. No point when it's just me. Opening it up would just make it hotter in summer and colder in winter. Better to just keep those rooms shut."

"Hmm," Amelia said. "Bet they're dusty." I tried not to take that as an insult to my housekeeping skills. Amelia had already shown herself to be a little on the picky side when it came to cleanliness; when I'd been loading the dishwasher after lunch, she'd taken it upon herself to scrub the back of the tap above the kitchen sink. While I appreciated her taking the time to work on my kitchen, I wished she hadn't decided to poke around amongst the grubby side of the tap.

And I had hoped that she might notice how sparkling the bathrooms were, but she didn't comment. At least I knew they were clean and hoped I was making a good impression.

After the tour was done, we sat back down in the living room under the whirr of the ceiling fan. "So that's my place, anyway," I said, shrugging.

"Well I still think you're very lucky, having somewhere you can call all yours." Amelia nodded and looked at the cushion she was leaning against, eyeing it critically. "But I'm still a little worried about Claudine," she said, turning back to me.

"Me too." The interlude with lunch had been nice, but now it felt like it was time to go back to the real world. And the real world was full of worries. At least my real world seemed to be.

"You know, there has to be a way she could…I don't know…prove that what she does isn't sleazy?"

"I don't know that folks'd listen much. Not when it's their kids she's teaching." I may not think that Marlena was the loveliest little girl in the world, but I wasn't Marlena's mother and I wasn't paying all that money for dance lessons so I could sit beside proud grandparents at a dance recital and admire how well Marlena could skip without worrying if any of the fathers there had seen her dance teacher naked. Or nearly naked, anyway.

"Yeah, but they'd enjoy the show, surely. Hey, d'you think you could have it at the Roadhouse maybe? If you asked Eric he might like the idea?" Amelia looked at me expectantly.

"Um…" I wasn't sure that providing a venue for Claudine to prove that her dance routines were classy was really top of Eric's priorities right then, and I didn't much like the idea of being the one to ask him.

"You don't think Eric would go for it?" Amelia prompted. "Or you don't wanna ask him?"

"Um…" I wasn't helping myself with the stalling. "It's complicated," I finished. Eric might have said it wasn't, and maybe the night before it hadn't been, but in the harsh light of day it sure was to me.

"Oh, well." Amelia waved a hand dismissively. "Hook-ups can be like that. But you've got to work together, so…"

"So, what?"

"So, you've probably gotta decide if it's going to be an on-going thing. And if it is, then, you know. You can probably ask for a few favours."

"Because I'm sleeping with my boss?"

"Because you're friends with benefits with your boss. Sookie, he's getting what he wants…you could, I mean…" Amelia sat back and looked like she was considering what to say. "I'm not saying you're going to prostitute yourself or anything, but…I guess. It gives you an advantage?" She finished that sentence as a question, making me wonder whether I could actually trust any of the advice Amelia was so clearly trying to impart.

But who else did I have to talk to about any of this?

"But what if I don't want an advantage?"

"You mean you don't want to keep sleeping with him?" Amelia asked.

"I didn't say I had." But I sure hoped she wasn't going to ask me outright, because I wasn't prepared to lie either.

Amelia shrugged. "Well, he's not my taste. I think he's a little odd, truth be told. Kinda…cold. Off-putting, you know?" I declined to answer that one on the grounds it might incriminate me, but Amelia didn't notice my silence, or, rather, didn't care, and she carried on. "I think you could probably do better."

"Oh. I don't know." I realised I was treading a fine line here, and hoped that I'd said enough to put Amelia off. Unfortunately, she'd misinterpreted me.

"Oh!" Amelia said, pointing a finger at me. "The shawl! I knew it!"

"What?"

"You and Bill. There's more to you having that shawl than you were telling. You're getting back with him."

"No!" That was the last thing I wanted, especially since I'd realised what an interesting topic of conversation I was to Bill and his relatives.

"So…what? No one? You're not…you know…sleeping with anyone?" Amelia looked at me like I was a curious object she'd just stumbled across. I had expected my house to be the curiosity, stuffed as it was with the belongings my family had accumulated over a hundred years or more. I hadn't expected to be one myself.

I thought of a way to try to deflect some of Amelia's interest in me. "Would that be so strange?" I asked her, congratulating myself on answering a question with a question.

"No," Amelia said. "But you know, it'd be…kinda lonely I would have thought."

"I don't mind lonely." Not most of the time, anyway.

"What about the other kind of lonely…the, uh, the physical kind of lonely?" Amelia asked. She was persistent; I had to give her that.

"I don't think it's impossible to go without sex." I was regretting my decision to continue with the conversation now. I had hoped that Amelia might give me some perspective on what to do with Eric, but I couldn't see how that was going to happen unless I spilled the beans. And I wanted to keep it between Eric and me; after all, I hadn't been the only one involved last night. It wasn't just my story to tell.

And that was a sobering thought. Was I just going to be his dirty little secret now?

Amelia screwed up her pretty snub nose. "Well, probably that's true. But it's not the way I want to live. I'm young and I want to have fun. I don't see why I have to follow a bunch of antiquated rules I didn't sign up for."

"So…you're seeing someone?" I wondered who that might be.

Amelia shrugged. "I'm, uh, sleeping with someone. Occasionally, anyway. Pam." And I had my answer. Somehow, I'd expected Amelia to be more discreet, but I guessed that wasn't her style.

I felt glad I hadn't told her anything about Eric and me. "Oh," I said, keeping my tone as neutral as possible. "That's, uh, nice." That was probably not the remark the cool kids would have made, but this was all new to me. I didn't think I'd ever met someone quite so upfront about sexual matters as Amelia before. Sure, Tara and I had had veiled conversations but, given she'd been with JB since they were in High School, she wasn't exactly regaling me with tales of her latest bed partner on a regular basis. And I certainly wasn't kissing and telling, not about Quinn, not about Bill and most of all, not about Eric.

Maybe he was my dirty little secret?

I didn't have time to wander down that train of thought any longer, because Amelia had carried on talking. "Oh, I sleep with men, too. But I like keeping my options open and you gotta admit Pam's pretty great. Of course I know she's not gonna commit to anything and, as much as I'd love to see the look on Octavia's face when she realises I'm with Pam it'd just be kinda stupid when I'm living with her. It was bad enough when Daddy found out I like women too…he just. Well, we'll never be on the same page. But it's my life, after all, and he'll just have to deal with it. Really, there's nobody else who can tell me what's right for me."

And maybe, although Amelia had been talking about herself, she'd actually given me what I needed to hear. I hadn't felt bad about anything last night, in fact, I'd felt more myself than I had in a while. And whether Eric felt the same or not was going to have to be his problem.

Amelia and I chatted for a while longer. She brought the conversation around to Claudine's problem a couple more times, and wondered out loud what we could do. I couldn't provide an easy solution and neither could she.

And it was probably Claudine's business anyway.

When Amelia left, I got myself ready for work. I tried not to rush it, putting on the radio and swaying to the music as I dressed, but I couldn't ignore the butterflies of anticipation that were fluttering around in my stomach.

Seeing Eric again, after the night before, was either going to be really good, or quite the opposite. Either way, I was anxious to have it over and done with.

But when I got to work, he wasn't around. "It's me again tonight," Pam announced, sauntering through from the back. She was dressed to kill; black business suit, large pearls, and bright pink and gold spike heeled shoes.

"So much for the boss-man," Long Shadow grumbled. "He off findin' some other place to buy so he can dump this place?"

"My God, you are a pessimist, aren't you?" Pam said, leaning on the bar next to him. "Cheer the fuck up and try not to scare the punters."

Long Shadow gave Pam a good long stare. "For some of us, this ain't play time," he said, low and threatening.

That threat bounced straight off Pam's lint-free lapel. "Well no, because who in their right mind would play with you when you look so pissed off with everything? Did no one ever teach you that the barman's job is to be the world's friend?" Pam widened her big, blue eyes and only the fact that her lips curled up slightly gave away that she wasn't genuinely perplexed by the lack of training Long Shadow had received.

"My job is to serve drinks. I get paid for serving drinks."

"And you get tips for being friendly. Isn't the American service culture a wonderful thing to behold?" Pam smiled warmly at Long Shadow who didn't seem to have an answer to that one, so he stamped off to the storeroom muttering about getting supplies.

"You sure do seem to like being in charge here, Pam," Ginger commented, eyeing her up warily.

"You know, I really do." Pam smiled broadly.

"Must be a change of pace? Comin' where you come from, in'all?" Ginger said.

"Oh, it's not so different really. I might seem posh to you lot, but actually I grew up above a pub in Islington." Pam looked at Ginger expectantly; Ginger looked at me inquiringly, perhaps hoping I could throw a little more light on Pam's announcement.

"So…this is kind of like being at home to you then, Pam?" I asked.

"Oh. Well, a little. Stick some _Coronation Street_ on the telly and it will be like I never left." She sighed. "I'm going to check on Long Shadow." With that she walked out the back.

"I think I missed some of that," Ginger confessed, while re-stacking the little menu cards.

"I think...I think Pam can run a bar," I said. This confused me all the more. Why had she been on the wrong side of the bar all this time?

And where was Eric anyway?

I tried to think of a way to ask Pam without directly coming out and asking her and perhaps giving more away than I wanted to. After all, I had no idea what excuse Eric had used the night before when he hadn't shown at work. Instead, while I was out the back on my break, I asked her about Victor. "So, Victor's gone?"

"Not for good," Pam said, pursing her lips and looking down at the Eric's desk. "He's coming back."

"For his money?" Pam's head shot up. "Eric said something…about how he owes Victor money."

"Yes," Pam sighed, not looking very happy about that.

"And there's the money that's missing…?" I said, not sure what Pam knew about that either.

"Which Victor seems to have in his back pocket," Pam finished, and that answered my question. "I don't know, Sookie. It's all so fucking difficult."

I couldn't disagree with that. "Doesn't it seem a little odd, though, that Victor took the money and then he came back? Surely he'd guess we'd figure it out and he'd be better to stay away, in case Eric got the police involved?"

Pam didn't seem to give that much thought. "I couldn't imagine what Victor thinks he's playing at Sookie. Or Eric, for that matter. I am not the expert on men and their dick-measuring competitions."

"I…don't even think that I am, either."

"No. Well. Be that as it may, Sookie. We're stuck here doing all the work until they sort out whose is bigger." Pam seemed disgruntled about that.

"I thought you liked being in charge?"

"I would. If I was. But I'm…oh; I don't even know what I'm doing. I do, however, know what I have to do next. I have orders." Pam held up her cellphone and waved it from side to side. "What do you say to a roadtrip?"

"Um…now?"

"Yes. It's work-related, don't worry. And I'm in charge, anyway." Pam seemed to have reached a conclusion on that point.

"Well…I guess they'd cope without me."

"I'm sure they will, Sookie. I doubt it's heaving with customers out there." Pam was right about that.

"OK. I'll go and tell the others I'm busy with you." I headed out into the bar and let Ginger know I would be unavailable for, well, I didn't know how long.

"That's fine, hon. I'll take your customers, and, uh…keep an eye on Dawn for you."

"Dawn? Why Dawn?" She might not be my most favourite co-worker, but I was certain she could manage without me overseeing her.

"Oh…well. It's nothing. But there were some words earlier." Ginger nodded at the table where Jason and his new lady love were seated. A very bored looking Hoyt was sitting next to them staring at the television set.

"Dawn said something to Jason?" I asked.

"Jason's girlfriend said something to Dawn. Now she's licking her wounds." I looked over at Dawn who thumped a glass of beer rather heavily down on the table of a trucker who'd dropped in. He didn't look pleased with that, and she didn't stick around to apologise. I wondered how much her tips were going to suffer.

"I hope you'll be all right," I said.

Ginger shrugged and Dawn stomped on over to us. "She's a bitch," she said to me. "She's a bitch and she doesn't deserve him."

"He's, uh, hardly a prize, Dawn…" I wondered if time had dimmed her memory of Jason.

"No. But he's ours. I don't think it's right some no-good tramp outta Hot Shot should get her claws into him."

"I think it's kinda mutual," I pointed out, as gently as I could.

Dawn's jaw was set though, and her eyes were flashing. "That ain't the way it works, Sookie. They keep to themselves and they don't go around flashing their cheap-ass tacky lingerie at the boys from Bon Temps." I decided there was no reasoning with her; it looked like the wagons were being circled again.

"OK. Well, I'm off with Pam for a while."

Dawn sighed. "Well that'll be nice. For you. I'll just stay here and work my ass off. As usual." With that she walked off, watching Jason's table the whole time.

"That is not gonna end well," Ginger said, and I had to agree. I didn't want to keep Pam waiting though, so I didn't have time to stand around and discuss it some more.

"OK, bye," I said to Ginger.

"Bye, hon. You and Pam have fun. And don't worry, I'll look after Jane and make sure her son comes get her."

"Thanks, Ginger." On my way past, Long Shadow caught my arm. "Let go of me!"

He held his hands up like he was surrendering. "OK, Blondie. I just wanna say, you see the boss, you tell him I wanna talk to him."

"Well he's not here."

Long Shadow sighed. "Yeah, but he's got prissy-tits Pam doin' all his dirty work, so he's probably got her drivin' you around now too. How's it feel to be pimped out like that, Blondie?" He leered at me.

"Shut up, Long Shadow."

He chuckled, kind of mirthlessly. "Yeah, no wonder Victor was so fuckin' happy to see you here. Anyways, if you see your sugar daddy, you tell him I got information for him, OK?"

I was so mad at Long Shadow and his accusations that I didn't trust myself to speak in case I said something I'd regret, so I just gave a small nod, barely a full tilt of the head, and pushed through the door to the corridor out the back. "Good to go?" Pam asked. She was standing there, purse slung over her forearm, other hand on her hip. The fact she'd been waiting for me was hard to miss.

I was hoping that I'd get a chance to brush my hair at least before we set off, but that didn't seem to be the case. I ducked into the storeroom, threw my apron in the dirty laundry hamper and grabbed my own purse out of my locker, before meeting Pam back out in the corridor. "OK, let's hit the road!" she said brightly, and we walked out into the parking lot. "Well, at least it's easy to see where my crappy rental car is now." Sure enough, her not-so-crappy rental car was clearly illuminated by the spot-light attached to the back of the bar.

"So what are we doing, anyway?" I asked Pam, as I climbed into the passenger seat.

"Oh. Just an errand. For Eric." Pam started the car and drove out of the lot.

"Pam," I said, turning to watch her as she drove. "Level with me, OK? Am I the witness or the bodyguard in whatever it is we're going to do?"

Pam laughed heartily at that. "Very funny, Sookie. Sadly, tonight it's neither. Mostly you're just company for me."

"Well, I'm not sad. I'm not sure I'd be much use as a bodyguard and I'm not in the mood to witness anything…fishy."

Pam chuckled again. "And what's your view on burying bodies?"

"To that Pam, I'm going to say as long as long as it's not in my backyard, you can knock yourself out."

"Well, don't worry. It's nothing that bad." Pam seemed to think that was reassuring but I could think of plenty of things that might be better than burying an actual body but which I still didn't want to be involved in. But, short of throwing myself out of a moving vehicle, which seemed a tad extreme, I was stuck seeing this through.

I looked out the window and pondered whether perhaps I was too easily led.

After a while we reached the outskirts of Shreveport, and, from there, we drove into one of those fancy gated communities where the man in the guard's booth waved Pam through. So whatever we were doing, we weren't exactly sneaking in.

Pam drove up to a house at the end of the street and pulled into the driveway. "Come on," she said, as she got out of the car.

"Where are we?" I asked her.

"Home. Well, home for now, anyway." She pulled a set of keys out of her purse and opened the front door before turning to the right and punching some numbers into one of those keypads people used for setting home alarms.

"This is your place?" I asked. It seemed nice enough, if a little dull.

"Not exactly. I'm just the lodger. This is Eric's place. Well, the one he's renting."

"Oh." I wasn't sure what to say to that, and I began to worry all over again just why Pam had brought me with her. Was Eric here?

"He's not here, though," Pam continued, which answered that question. She led me through to a kitchen that looked almost empty, bar a few newspapers piled up on the counter. She placed her purse down next to them. "I just have to get some papers from the office," she said, and she left the room and me in it.

Not sure what else to do, I drifted into the next room. This was the living room and, again, it was hard to see anything of anyone's personality in it. Not only was Eric renting, but it looked as though he was just passing through.

Or maybe he just hadn't had the time to change much, I reasoned. It was possible, given how much time he spent at the bar. Maybe he hadn't really had time to go out and buy much furniture.

Maybe I could take him out? Say to Herveaux's, perhaps? I tried to imagine how that would go, me and Eric wandering around the showroom, shadowed by Debbie Pelt as she waited to taunt me again.

Nope, that would not be a fun afternoon out.

I looked around at what furniture there was. A large couch, upholstered in dark brown leather, and a coffee table seemed to be the only things of note. The walls were painted a beige colour and bare apart from some of those brackets people used to hang their flat-screen TVs up.

Oh.

So that's where the TV had come from. Eric had gifted his own one to the bar. Somehow that made me feel a little better and a little less like Eric was intending to just up and leave the minute things got too tough. He might not be making this much of a home, but he was trying to make the bar better. He'd listened to my suggestion and that counted, didn't it?

I didn't know. I sat down on the couch and stared at the blank wall in front of me. Surprisingly, it was kind of relaxing. I decided to just think about nothing for a while.

"Not asleep there, are you?" Pam said as she bustled in a while later.

"Not really."

"Right, well, I'm done. I'd give you the tour of the house but there's not much to see. Couple of bedrooms, that sort of thing. Eric's not slept in last night, of course."

"Oh?" I said, trying to tread the fine line between being mildly interested and feigning such surprise that I'd give away my insider knowledge.

But, as Eric's roommate, Pam seemed to be quite aware of what had been going on. "But you know all about that," she said, sitting on the couch next to me and looking me straight in the eye.

It was hard to duck out of that one, so I attempted to remain nonchalant and merely shrugged. Pam narrowed her eyes. "Well, I'm glad you, uh…oh, I don't want to know." She turned away from me and leaned her head against the back of the couch. "But I did want to talk to you."

"Did you?" I asked. I hoped she wasn't going to warn me off Eric. It was too late, that horse was running down a road somewhere, enjoying its freedom. And I didn't think I needed to be warned about getting too involved and having my heart broken. My heart hadn't been that involved in the previous night's activities. Other body parts had more than taken up the slack.

So Pam was probably going to be wasting her breath.

"There's a reason Eric isn't here, or at the bar," she began. "He's gone to get help."

"Help?" I asked, feeling a little lost. If he was interviewing more staff then surely he'd do that at the bar? And could he afford extra staff anyway?

Was he looking for his own replacement?

"Yes," Pam said, a little tersely. "He's gone to get Karin."

I had completely lost the thread of the conversation. "I'm sorry?"

"Karin," Pam repeated, enunciating carefully.

"Is…?"

"Coming. Here. After Eric collects her from a layover in Dallas. He thought it was very fortuitous that he managed to catch her on a trip across the country…I don't know if we really needed her. But it's his call." Pam finished with a shrug.

"And she's coming here to…do what exactly?"

Pam turned again and evaluated me carefully, which was disconcerting to say the least. "Help. She's a trouble-shooter these days. Apparently."

"And he knows her from New York?" It was a frustrating conversation, at least, my side of it was. Pam, I thought, knew she was only giving me part of the story but was waiting for me to fill in the blanks on something I simply didn't know. Unlike the reason Eric hadn't slept in his bed the night before, the existence of Karin was something I had only just discovered.

"Yes," Pam said, simply. "They worked together. And, sometimes, they dated." Her pale blue eyes flicked over my face.

"Oh." I didn't know what else to say to that.

"I just didn't want you to be surprised, Sookie, when she appeared."

"And that's why you brought me out here? To tell me so I wouldn't make a scene at the bar when Eric shows up with his real girlfriend?"

"No." Pam made a small clucking sound with her tongue, as though I was being deliberately difficult. I might have done the same thing once or twice to Marlena or one of the other fairies in Claudine's class. It didn't make me feel good. "As I said, mostly I brought you out here for company; it's a little boring driving around your country after a while. But it's not a bad thing that you know now, is it?"

"Forewarned is forearmed?"

"Exactly, Sookie." Pam gave me a big smile that let me know she was pleased with my response.

"And I need to be armed because?"

Pam pressed her lips together, and looked thoughtful. Then she smiled, a little to herself. "Tell me, do you actually own a gun? We always think all the Americans do."

"A shotgun. Used to be Jason's."

"OK. Well, that's good to know."

"Am I shooting Karin, or Eric, or both of them?"

Pam patted my arm. "I don't think any shooting will be required. I was just curious. And I certainly wouldn't feel threatened by Karin…she's past history."

"Doesn't history tend to repeat itself?"

"Not if something better comes along. You know, I don't think you should underestimate the fact that you have quite considerable charms Sookie."

Pam was trying to be kind; at least, I thought she was. But that didn't make me feel a whole lot better about myself. "Yeah. I know. Big boobs."

"You have a lot more going for you than just your bust size, and if you can't see that, then I can't help you. And don't be fooled by Eric."

"I think it's too late for that."

"No. I mean. Don't be fooled because he's not exactly going to tell you. The same way he would have neglected to mention Karin's imminent arrival until she was actually here." Pam paused and shifted back slightly on the couch. "The thing to remember about Eric is that he's spent so long pretending he doesn't have any feelings, he forgets that others might."

"So…sensitivity is not his strong suit?"

"Exactly. Also he's a little short on tact, he doesn't know when to delegate and he fails miserably at selecting appropriate vehicles."

"Can we throw interior design into that list?" I asked, waving my hand around the very bare living room.

"We can and we will. He means well enough, he just sometimes falls short."

"Don't we all," I said ruefully. Sometimes I thought that most of my life was spent trying to live up to an ideal Sookie I was just never going to match. I was trying to be a good person, trying to help out where I could, trying to just solve everyone's problems and I wasn't getting anywhere. All I had was a bucketful of worries.

No wonder I'd been so ready for my night with Eric. I'd needed the release…and maybe the distraction. I sighed. I'd always known that having a one night stand with my boss could lead to difficulties so there was simply no point trying to beat myself up about it now. What was done was done, and if he had gone off to get this Karin, and if he did, somehow, rekindle some long-dead romance with her then I wouldn't crawl into a corner and lick my wounds. I'd just carry on as I had been, with my head held high, secure in the knowledge that I might not be living the perfect life, but I was living the best life I could.

And that was something, wasn't it?

"Well, we'd better get back. I worry that if I leave him too long unsupervised Long Shadow might actually eat one of the patrons." Pam stood up and smoothed down her skirt, and then held out her hand to me. I took it and she pulled me up and we stood there, facing each other and still holding hands. I could see why Amelia's idea of keeping your options open wasn't such a bad thing.

Life might be so much easier if I just wanted to play on Pam's team instead of Eric's.

I let go of Pam's hand and smiled at her. "Thanks for the heads up," I said. "And the pep-talk."

"Oh, don't mention it." Pam led the way back to the kitchen where she retrieved her purse and a brown manila folder from the counter. "Let us sally forth, then." She walked back out to the hallway and stood beside the keypad for the alarm, waiting for me to catch up. When I was close, she punched in a code, and then ushered me out the door and back to the car.

About half-way back to the bar, something occurred to me. "Why?" I asked, out loud, forgetting that the rest of the thought had been unspoken.

"Why what?" Pam asked. "Why is Karin coming? I said. Help. With all this Victor stuff."

"No. I mean, why is Eric pretending he hasn't got any feelings?" I turned in my seat and looked at Pam's profile, intermittently illuminated by a passing car's headlights.

"Ah," Pam said. "That's something you'd have to ask him, although I'd advise picking your moment. But let's just say…well. If you don't have them, no one can hurt them, can they?" She glanced quickly at me, before turning back to the road.

"I guess not." There wasn't much else I could say to that, so I decided to change the subject.

"What was it like, Pam? Growing up in a pub?"

"Oh. Well. I wasn't _in_ the pub of course. I was upstairs. That was the problem, there were people around all the time, but, mostly, I was alone. My parents were working."

"Not much fun for a kid."

"No. It's much more fun getting to be the landlady…well, stand in landlady anyway."

"So…why hasn't Eric asked you to help before?"

"Because he's been there all the time." Pam seemed surprised I'd bothered asking that question, but it wasn't quite what I was getting at.

"No, I mean…he's getting Karin to come here because she's some kind of special trouble-shooter, right?" Pam nodded. "But you said you're in marketing? And he hasn't got you doing any of that? Not even a flyer?"

Pam was silent for a while and I wondered if I'd offended her somehow. "I think he was just trying to protect me, Sookie. Not put too much on my plate…after…well, after Miriam. I don't think he does well with emotionally fragile women."

"Oh." Well I guess that made sense and I felt like a heel now for asking and making Pam bring up the memories, although I wasn't sure I'd put her in the emotionally fragile category. More like the coping and proud of it basket.

It occurred to me that Gran probably would have liked Pam.

"And I didn't want to offer because I could tell he's been trying to handle it all himself." Pam was quiet after that and I lost my nerve about asking anything else in case I brought up any other bad memories. I couldn't help but think, though, that all this trying to protect each other, wasn't maybe the best way to run a business.

When we got back to the roadhouse it was still pretty quiet, although there was one new customer who I hadn't expected to see. "That guy sitting at the bar asked if you were here," Ginger said, pointing, and sighing, loudly. "He's quite somethin'."

Claude was quite something, but I had yet to figure out exactly what. And yet, here he was, sitting at the bar in a t-shirt that surely had to be too tight for comfort, sipping his drink and trying to pretend that Jane Bodehouse wasn't slowly slipping off her stool next to him.

"He's, uh, the brother of a friend," I said, before Ginger could get any ideas about me and Claude.

"Oh. Right," Ginger said, not really paying any attention to me, but still staring starry-eyed at Claude. You would have thought Brad Pitt had walked into the bar, the way she was ogling him.

"I better go and talk to him, then," I muttered, and I walked over. "Hi, Claude, what brings you in here tonight?"

"Oh. Hello. Just passing through, really. Claudine said she'd been in and I was curious." He turned around on his stool to face me and looked me up and down. It was hard to tell if he was curious about the bar, or me.

Either way, I felt a little uncomfortable.

"Well, great to see you." Claude didn't really hear me say that, I think, he just kept on talking.

"I can see why you like it here, Sookie. Lots of potential." He turned right around on his stool, lent his elbows back on the bar and surveyed the room. "Lots of potential." His eyes followed a trucker with a full beard and a lumber shirt as he ambled towards the men's room.

"Well. I like it. So you, uh, let me know if you need anything."

Claude sighed and turned back to me. "No. I think I'm good." Turning back to the bar he slid a twenty across to Long Shadow, who pocketed it with a silent salute in Claude's direction. I wondered what Long Shadow had done, or said, to get such a generous tip. "See you around," Claude said, as he walked out of the bar without a backward glance.

_Not if I see you first._

Well, that was a little mean, but there was something I just didn't like about Claude. It was hard to put my finger on it, but it was there all the same.

Still, now was not the time to be worrying about Claude. I turned to talk to Long Shadow. "In case you're wondering, I haven't seen Eric. So don't go thinking I haven't passed on your message."

Long Shadow shrugged. "Doesn't matter now," he said enigmatically, and then Jane landed on a heap on the floor and we all had something else to worry about.

Sometimes, even a drunk woman sprawled at your feet is a welcome distraction.

**Thanks for reading!**


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N Hello! Back again, although things are not going well here. Into my third week of a cold virus, ugh. Anyway, thanks for coming back here!**

**Disclaimer: Not mine.**

Before I went to bed that night I decided that when the new day came I was putting it all behind me and just going to concentrate on the simpIe things in life. Like the fact that when I got up in the morning I'd get to drink my coffee in the sunshine. I felt it was a great idea and bound to make me feel like the world was a lot better than it had seemed when I went to bed, still turning over the whole mystery that was Eric. And Eric and Karin. And Eric and Pam, or was it Eric and Karin and Pam? Not to mention Claude and Long Shadow and how it was possible that Jane Bodehouse still managed to be a mostly functioning human being while slowly drinking herself into oblivion.

It was therefore a real shame that when I did wake up it was raining. Hard. It sounded like someone was throwing buckets of nails at our old tin roof.

I lay in bed and I listened to the sound and contemplated how much worse I'd have to feel before I wanted to join Jane in drinking myself under the bar every night.

The sad fact, or perhaps the happy realisation, depending on your point of view, was that it would take a lot more than what I had going on to make me get to that point. Sure, nothing in my life was turning out like I thought it would. I wasn't in the kind of job I'd assumed I'd have, I didn't have a boyfriend and a liaison with my boss was looking likely to turn complicated now his ex-girlfriend was in town, and I didn't even seem to be able to take a simple dance class without it becoming something way more complex. But that didn't mean I should throw in the towel, should it?

No. It didn't. It hadn't quite come to that.

And so I pressed on with my day. I sat in the kitchen and I watched the rain running down the window and I drank my coffee anyway. And then I got ready and I went grocery shopping, although the rain persisted and me, and my groceries, were a soggy mess by the time that task was done. Some days things just didn't go your way, and you had to shrug it off.

And I tried, I really did. But I felt out of sorts and out of step with my life somehow. I hadn't ended up quite where I thought I would be and I was feeling unsettled by it all. I used to have plans…well, I'd had a plan and a clear view of how I thought my life would turn out.

Now I lurched from day to day surrounded by people who seemed to be hiding more than they shared. Maybe that had always been the case? After all, hadn't I missed the fact Jannalynn and Sam were having an affair? And somehow that money that Herveaux's had meant to pay to PackMaster had disappeared right under our noses.

Maybe I was just better at seeing what was really going on now. I wasn't sure whether or not that idea comforted me. Perhaps I'd been happier when I'd existed in my little bubble of ignorance.

I didn't have time to puzzle that out, though, because I was needed at work.

I allowed myself some extra time to drive out to the roadhouse due to the rain, and I was a little earlier than usual. Eric's car was in the parking lot, but I wasn't in the mood to go seeking him out as I let myself into the back of the building. No one was in the store room when I went in to place my purse in a locker and tie on an apron, and no one was out in the bar when I went out to begin my prep work.

I tried not to see this as some kind of omen or message from the universe that I was destined to be alone forever. I thought about turning on the television set…Eric's television set as I now realised it was, but I wasn't in the mood. Instead I went into the kitchen and found the small radio that Lafayette kept in there, and I brought it out and plugged it in behind the bar. Soon I was dancing along to Will I Am and Britney Spears as I wrapped cutlery in paper napkins. Like them I wanted to scream and shout, but I would settle for shaking my butt and singing along.

I was so wrapped up in what I was doing that I forgot about the likelihood of other staff arriving. Lafayette's voice behind me made me jump. "This a private party, or can anyone join in?"

"Well, if I wanted a private party, I wouldn't be holding it here," I said, as Lafayette sashayed over to me, swaying his hips to the beat of the music. I couldn't help it, I giggled. He held out his hand, and I took it. "Sookie...bitch, I presume?" he asked.

"What? Oh." I realised he was referring to the song. "Well, it's Sookie, anyways." I shrugged, and let Lafayette twirl me around.

"Now, there ain't nothin' wrong with havin' a little attitude," he said. "Sometimes, that's all we got."

I didn't answer that, and just kept dancing instead. Lafayette was a good dancer, but more intent on making me laugh than anything. D'Eriq arrived and observed the two of us for a moment. "I'll go and start then," he said, walking on towards the kitchen.

"That's what I keep you round for!" Lafayette called after him. Ginger arrived next and seemed a little bemused by the fact that Lafayette and I were holding an impromptu dance party beside the bar. "You-all win the lottery?" she asked, as she tied on her apron.

"No. We're just dancing," I said.

"You can come join us if you want," Lafayette said. "The more, the merrier."

"Oh. I don't know." Ginger looked over her shoulder.

"Honey, they ain't interested in what we're doin'," Lafayette said. "And, anyways, long as we ready to open, a little dancin' don't matter."

"Well, maybe a little bit." Ginger danced a little on the spot.

"That's it," Lafayette said, and then he turned over his shoulder and yelled into the kitchen "Gotta give D'Eriq a show now, don't we?"

"I ain't watchin' your fat ass," D'Eriq called back. "I gets enough of that gettin' in my way as it is."

"Well, I can't compete with Sookie's ass, but that's no reason to be cruel." Lafayette grabbed Ginger's hand and twirled her around and she laughed. "Why're you all so happy?" Dawn asked as she came in. She sounded anything but.

"I don't know, this's Sookie's party," Lafayette replied still dancing. So was I, I was really getting into it by this point.

"I just..." I stopped and I shrugged. "It's been one of those days."

"It's been one of those weeks," Ginger added.

"Well, I'm having a tough time too. I just don't see what's so good about someone from Hot Shot, anyway," Dawn said, turning the conversation to her current favourite topic.

"Loose morals and an over-abundance of leopard print," Lafayette said. Dawn looked at him seriously. "You think that's it?" she asked, sounding worried.

"Oh, honey! I'm just messin'. Lord, I don't know. Ain't anyone out there got anything I want." Lafayette went back to dancing and I kept on doing it too. Dawn watched us for a while, and then walked over to the area where the condiments were stacked, but with a decided spring in her step and a sway to her hips.

And the door from the back burst open and Pam appeared. "I hate to say it, but if this is a worker's revolt, you're doing it all wrong. A little less happiness, a few more signs saying 'down with management' should do the trick."

Lafayette threw his head back and laughed at that, long and loud. And then we all joined in and the funny thing was, I was starting to feel a little bit better about, well, everything. And definitely a little less like I was adrift without a place in the world. I did have a place and it was this crummy bar in Northern Louisiana with these people.

And, actually, I didn't feel bad about it one bit.

Lafayette switched off the radio and returned it, and himself, to the kitchen, where I could hear him telling D'Eriq what he'd been doing wrong in his absence. Pam walked over to me. "Now, Sookie," she said, looking far more serious than someone in a beautiful teal lace cocktail dress should. She'd really pulled out all the stops tonight and I was in half a mind to ask her why, but then she said "Victor is, apparently, calling in tonight."

"OK." I guessed I was still in the inner circle then if I was getting this news.

"Our job…well, your job, at least in part, is to keep him out in the bar and away from the office while Eric…and Karin…look through everything."

OK. So maybe not inner circle so much as first line of defence. Terrific. I possibly wasn't that qualified and, more to the point, I remembered Lafayette's warning about staying away from Victor. Some of my former happiness started to evaporate like the puddles in the parking lot would when the sun came back out.

Pam sensed my reluctance and gave me a wry smile. "With any luck, he'll get bored and give up after too long."

"You saying my company ain't up to much, Pam?"

She laughed at my joke. "No, but he's here for a reason and while I think you'll make a nice distraction for him, I suspect that he's more concerned with his original purpose."

"And that is?"

"To goad Eric, of course."

I thought about that. "Seems awful strange though. Him coming back here. To the scene of the crime as it were."

Pam narrowed her eyes and looked at me, considering that idea. "I mean," I continued. "If I was Victor, and I'd stolen, really stolen a bunch of money, I wouldn't be coming back to show my face. I'd…I don't know. Send a letter, or an email, or something asking for payment of what I'm owed. I'd hope that no one'd catch my deception."

"Perhaps Victor has underestimated Eric," she said, and then she looked me up and down. "Or you."

I shrugged. I'd only looked at the accounts at Eric's behest, after all, although there was no way of knowing what would have happened if I hadn't. "Perhaps Victor's just a big fat ass with a big fat head?" I suggested, and that made Pam laugh.

"Well, keep a look out for that ass, and cut him off at the pass, would you?" And with that she disappeared out the back again to, presumably, re-join Eric. And Karin.

I started my night as waitress and guard dog, trying to keep one eye on the door and other on my customers. And there were customers that night, the rain seemed to have brought them to our doorstep, albeit somewhat bedraggled.

Jason arrived, along with his new lady who, it seemed, now warranted an introduction. "Sook! Hey, Sook!" Jason yelled, as he stood in the doorway of the bar and shook himself like a dog would. I made a mental note that we needed to get hold of a mop and deal to some of the water that was building up there as everyone came in dripping wet.

In the meantime, I walked over to the table Jason had selected. In Dawn's section. Which would be…interesting.

I made a second mental note to keep the mop, and any other potential weapons, well away from Dawn.

"This is Crystal," Jason said to me. "Crystal, this is my sister Sookie."

"How-de-do," I said, at the same time Crystal shrugged and said "I've seen her before, Jason. She's one of the waitresses so she's about always here."

OK. That was a little rude. I realised that expecting Jason to call her out on it might be too much, but I was still a little taken aback when all he did was smile at her. And pull out her chair.

Dawn was welcome to her. "Well, Dawn'll be along in a moment," I said, as I turned to leave.

"Um…you ain't gonna take our order?"

"Nope. You're in Dawn's section there Jason. So you-all have a nice night." I walked back to the bar to collect an order from Long Shadow who seemed to be almost in a good mood.

And he hadn't been present for our dance party, which was curious.

"Should be good viewing over there," he said to me conversationally, nodding at something past my shoulder. I turned and saw that Dawn was standing beside Jason and Crystal and looking none too pleased with anything. Jason looked worried and Crystal looked…well, predatory would be the word I'd use.

Lord, I hoped Jason knew what he was doing with her.

"I ain't looking," I informed Long Shadow, as I turned back to him, and he threw back his head and laughed, really laughed, like I'd said something really funny.

"You…uh…" How on earth did you ask someone outright if they were having some kind of mental breakdown? "You seem to be having a good day despite the rain."

"Little rain don't bother me none," Long Shadow said. I loaded up my tray with the drinks and wondered if perhaps Long Shadow knew about Victor's visit and that was the cause of his mellow mood. After all, they'd worked together, they might be friends.

But then I noticed his expression change and a scowl replace his smile as quickly as the clouds must have rolled on in the previous night. Turning around with my tray I saw the source of the problem. Victor had just walked in the door.

OK. I was ready for this…I was. I hurried over to the table of guys from the Norcross plant and handed round their drinks, and then I walked over to Victor, who'd removed an overcoat and was standing, waiting, as though he was looking for the coat-check girl.

Guess that'd be me.

"I'll, uh...take that if you like," I said, tucking my tray under my arm and holding out my hands for the coat. Victor took a step forward to hand it to me and his foot located that puddle of water and he started to slide. Possibly that wouldn't have been a problem, apart from the fact he grabbed at my outstretched hand as he slid, and then I was in danger of ending up in a crumpled heap on top of Victor.

I managed to disengage my hand and right myself. Victor, however, flailed a little and then, as he regained his balance, he made a late and blatant grab for me, grazing my breast with his hand. I suppressed a shudder.

"Well," Victor said, smoothing back his hair and smirking at me a little. "As pleasant as our little interlude was, Sookie, I think you can take my coat now." He thrust his coat at me and I took it and hung it up on the coat rack beside the door.

"Eric around?" Victor inquired, straightening the cuffs of his shirt. They were lilac and peeked out from beneath the sleeves of his midnight blue suit.

"I'm sorry, but he's a little tied up this evening." As I said that I smiled broadly at Victor and hoped, fervently, that would be all that was required of me as first line of defence. Victor would now surely give up and go away, lest I smile him to death.

Well, it was a worth a try.

Victor simply smiled back, and I think of the two of us, his was scarier. "I must say I hadn't pegged Eric as being one for bondage…but I guess it depends on who's tying the restraints, doesn't it Sookie?"

Oh lord. I realised I was going to have to watch what I said around Victor as he was on the lookout for innuendo. I felt that perhaps Pam might be better at this first line of defence business and I glanced over my shoulder back towards the bar, hoping she might be there and I could tag her in. But there was only a very disgruntled looking Long Shadow and I doubted he wanted to come over here and be sweet to Victor.

Well, neither did I.

"Now that I've made it here in one piece, I guess I might as well have a drink," Victor announced, and then he looked at me pointedly.

"Sure. Have a seat and I'll take your order."

Victor glanced around the bar. "Seems a little busier here tonight," he commented. He didn't seem pleased at that.

"Rain's cancelled a few barbecues, I'd say." I led Victor to a spare table in the area in front of the bar. "Now, what can I get you?"

Victor took a seat and drummed his fingers on the table. "I will have…," he began, rather grandly. "A Negroni."

"A...um. OK." Victor gave me a sceptical look, as though he thought I couldn't possibly know what that was. He was right, I didn't. But I sure hoped that Long Shadow did.

"I'll be right back with that," I said, and then I hurried over to the bar.

"Negroni?" Long Shadow asked, and I was so relieved that I didn't have to try to explain it that I could have hugged Long Shadow right at that moment.

Which says a lot about how little I was enjoying Victor's company.

When I returned with Victor's drink, I hoped that he wouldn't need anything else. "There you go," I said, as brightly as I could manage.

Victor sighed noisily and looked around. "You know, Sookie. I came all the way here and now…now I seem to be at a loose end." He turned his dark eyes to me. "I would very much appreciate a little company…if you thought that Eric could spare your services."

I tried to think of something to say that Victor just wasn't going to twist into something more sordid. "Well, much as we value all our customers, I'm not sure I can take a break right now."

"Why don't you go and check?" Victor asked, not very politely.

"I will," I said, probably even less politely and then I stomped over to Ginger. "You all right if I keep Victor company for a while?" I asked her and she looked at me in horror.

"You, uh, sure you want to do that, hon?"

"Nope. I don't. But Pam declared me first line of defence in the 'keep Victor out of Eric's hair' plan and I'm kinda out of other ideas for it."

"Well, sure. I guess. If this is part of some big thing to get rid of Victor, you go and do your worst then, Sookie. Just, uh, be a little wary around him. You know he don't think much of waitresses." I thought of Lafayette's warning and I wanted to press Ginger for more details, but Victor was watching us and it just wasn't the time.

"I will. Oh, and if you or Dawn get a minute, we should try to clean up that water by the front door. Maybe see if there's some towels out the back to put down."

Ginger said she'd look into it, and I walked back to Victor's table pretty sure my worst wasn't going to any match for Victor's. But I couldn't deny that I was still curious about his reasons for coming back here. If he had taken that money, he was either brazen or foolish or both. And while he struck me as overly enamoured with his own charms and, if I was being truthful, a little sleazy, he didn't seem all that stupid.

So why come back?

"Well. Here I am," I said as I sat down.

Victor smiled his scary smile at me again. His face should have been handsome, or maybe pleasant at least, but there was a hard edge to it and his dark eyes simply didn't light up in the way you'd expect when someone is smiling that much. Victor's expression was simply there for show, just as much as his fancy suits and his shiny shoes with their soles that didn't grip a wet floor like they should.

"All mine," Victor said happily. Euw. "At least for a little while, anyway."

"Sadly, I'm not part of the Bon Temps lending library."

"Eric not too keen on sharing, I guess?" Victor raised his glass and looked at me steadily over the rim as he took a drink.

"Eric's really got very little to say on the matter."

"Oh dear." Victor made an exaggeratedly sad face. "Trouble in paradise?"

I adopted a looked of surprise. "Normal working relationship I would have said. But I guess you ran things differently."

That made Victor's clown-mask slip, just for a moment. And then it was back, and he was smiling again. "You know, you shouldn't believe all the gossip you hear, Sookie."

"I'm afraid that I grew up in a very small town, Victor, and I learnt that the best way to get to know my neighbours is to do exactly that." I tried to maintain a reasonably innocent expression, as though we were merely engaged in harmless chit-chat and not a mentally exhausting game of one-upmanship.

I suddenly realised why Gran was always so tuckered out the day after her Descendants of the Glorious Dead meetings.

"And would you like to know all about me, Sookie? Find out a few of my secrets?" Victor asked, sitting back in his chair and looking at me with a new appreciation, as though I were a small dog who managed to walk upright on its hind legs.

"I think I know some already," I replied, trying to keep the same light tone to my voice. "After all, this did used to be your bar."

There was a lull in the conversation and, for a moment, I almost thought that Victor might confess his crime, stick up his hands and say 'You got me, I'm guilty' and I could…I wasn't sure on that front. Call Andy Bellefleur? March him back to Eric and say 'do your worst'?

It didn't matter anyway, because after a moment or two, and a long sip of his drink, Victor merely gave a little shake of his head. "You know, people get the wrong idea about me, but I am not quite as bad as you seem to think I am."

I felt like I'd had this conversation before. With Eric. And then I was struck with a mixed bag of emotions as I both longed to see him again and see if he was OK, and kick him the shins for leaving me dealing with Victor while he sat back there doing goodness' knows what. I felt a little like Alice. Things were getting curiouser and curiouser and I was stuck making small talk with the Cheshire cat while I wondered where the White Rabbit had gone because I'd followed him in here and now he'd left me.

"I would hate to label anyone unjustly, Victor," I said.

"No. Well. Be that as it may, Sookie. I don't think I was ever a good fit for this…place." He waved his hand around.

"You didn't like running a bar?" I wasn't sure if Victor had changed subjects to stop me mentioning his deception or if he really was inviting me to some kind of pity party for the way he'd been treated.

"I love running a bar. I dislike being made to feel unwelcome by a community who only wants to know my secrets…not me." OK, so it was the latter. "I mean, I re-opened the bar…what more did they want?" Victor seemed genuinely perplexed.

"Oh, I'm betting that Jane was mighty grateful to you for that."

"Her?" Victor asked, distastefully, looking over at Jane who was perched on a barstool, again. I sure did hope she didn't fall off it tonight. "She never even remembered my name. Kept calling me Frank."

"That's a sign that she likes you." That didn't seem to please Victor much. "Tell me," he asked. "How do they treat Eric?"

Oh. Gosh. How did I answer this one? "I don't know that he has that much to do with the other folks…" I began and Victor interjected. "See? And yet no one accuses of him of any misdeeds."

"Maybe he hasn't done anything?" I ventured.

Victor opened his mouth, as though he was going to say something, but then he stopped, closed it again and thought for a moment. "I think his time will come," Victor said, confidently. "And then you'll all be sorry you put your faith in him."

"You think he'll leave?" I asked, cursing myself for not playing it cool and merely shrugging off Victor's comments as the nasty words of a bitter man.

"I think he never had any intention of staying. The bar's still named after me, after all. No, I think this was all some elaborate ruse to show me who was better. Well, I don't think he's proved anything."

Now I was truly lost and I wondered if I'd somehow eaten some of Alice's mushrooms. "You think…Eric was trying to prove a point to you?"

Victor shrugged, and looked a little petulant. "Maybe," he conceded. "Maybe Eric always wanted to rid himself of this place when he'd shown how much nicer everyone is to him."

"I still don't see that they are…" I tried to imagine anyone being nice to Eric. Jane had tried to kiss him once, but she was hardly a reliable witness. Mostly he tried to avoid people and they did the same. I wasn't entirely convinced it was a useful strategy but it seemed to work for Eric.

"He seems to have inspired your loyalty, hasn't he Sookie?"

"I just…well I don't have any complaints. About him. As a boss." I hoped that was clear enough.

"As truly touching as that declaration was I am glad to be out of this place and its small-minded ways. There's nothing like being treated as an intruder to really put you off a town." Victor sneered a little at that and I opened my mouth to defend my town, but then I stopped.

Would it have been so easy for everyone to pass judgement about Claudine if they'd seen her in church as a little girl? Probably. But they might have been a little bit more sympathetic when they were doing it. Sorry that she'd sunk so low to have to take her clothes off for money. I couldn't honestly say that attitude would have been any better.

Would Bill have been so quick to latch onto the Bellefleurs and his family connection to them, if he'd been a Compton who'd been born in Bon Temps? That one I couldn't answer. Was it that bad for outsiders?

I just simply didn't know. And there was a part of me that didn't really want to know. I wondered what kind of person that made me, and decided that right then was not the time to delve into that.

"So it's better in Vegas?" I asked Victor.

That brought the smile back to his face. "Oh, very much so. There I have a wonderful club…much nicer than this place. It has an actual décor for one thing. Lots of drapery...I went for red velvet, banquettes upholstered in real leather. I got the hides from a specialist tannery myself. And I found some lovely Italian chandeliers on eBay. They were being sold by an estate in Palm Springs." Victor stopped, and looked a little wistful for a moment. "And we have our own impersonator."

"Impersonator?"

"Elvis, of course." Oh. Of course. I should have seen that coming. Victor continued. "His name's Felipe, he's very good."

"I'm sure he is." I thought for a moment. "That must have cost quite a bit. To set up out there." I wondered if that was why Victor had been skimming money out of here.

"Oh. Well. I have partners."

"That must help. And, uh…they like Elvis too?" I guess if Victor was going to find a bunch of like-minded people, Vegas was as good a place as any to do it.

"The theme was my idea. It's how I got involved initially, you see. I was brought in to…consult."

"And then you bought in? With the money from the sale of this place?" Part of which he was still waiting on.

Victor waved a hand. "Mmm. Something like that. Mine's been more a consulting role up until now. Setting up front of house. Hiring Felipe…that took some time. You wouldn't believe some of the people who think they can pull off a good Elvis. I'll be putting in a little investment though…soon." He looked at me pointedly. "When I can see Eric, that is. Do you think he'll be done soon, Sookie my dear?" Victor looked towards the door to the back.

I ignored that last part. "I couldn't really say," I murmured, thinking over what Victor had said. From the bits I could piece together he was nothing but a glorified manager at the place he was at now, and waiting on the final payment from Eric to buy in properly. While that didn't preclude him from having stolen from Eric, something about it all didn't add up.

"Listen, I gotta get back to work," I said to Victor. "I'll try and find out what Eric's doing. In the meantime, can I get you another drink? Maybe some food? The special tonight is Burgers Lafayette. They've been real popular."

Victor pulled a face at that. "No food. But I'll take another drink, Sookie." He sounded less than enthused. "I really do hope Eric finds some time for me soon." His act was starting to slip a bit and he sounded a little anxious. I was getting the impression that maybe it wasn't so much that Eric was trying to impress Victor as the other way around.

Long Shadow made another drink for Victor and handed it over. "He grilling you about the boss?" he asked me.

I shrugged. "A little."

"He's got some fucking nerve coming back here. Everything I did for him, and look at him, pretending like his shit don't smell just because he's living the high life and some of us are still fucking stuck behind this bar. Well fuck him." Long Shadow placed the drink on the bar and turned his back to me. I delivered it and then checked my tables, asked if anybody needed anything and then watched as Crystal draped herself all over Jason once again.

And while I did, I pondered the implications of everything Victor had told me. Sure, he could have been taking Eric's money and spending it on…I didn't know. Suits maybe? Keeping his Elvis impersonator in rhinestones? But if he had, why come back here? Why be so concerned with what Eric thought of him? Why sound like a third-grader who didn't get picked for the team?

I couldn't figure it out. So I tried another train of thought. If it wasn't Victor, then who would it be? Sure, it was his name against the entries…meaning they'd been entered using the ID number allocated to him when the system was set up.

So, if it wasn't Victor it had to be someone who knew what that ID was…someone Victor trusted enough to place orders and authorise invoices on his behalf. Or maybe just someone who was conveniently around when he had other plans. Like the time Sam had had to go and meet his mother at her lawyer's office when she was getting divorced and I needed my payments authorised and he'd given his ID to Jannalynn because I couldn't authorise my own payments and Arlene had left to go and get her kids…

And all of a sudden I knew what had happened to the money that should have gone to PackMaster. And I had a pretty good idea who'd stolen the money from the bar.

Trouble was I couldn't do much about it. Not right then. And so I kept on working, but I kept one eye on Victor.

And one on Long Shadow.

Eventually Pam came out and spoke to Victor, and he stood up angrily and left. Pam came over to me. "At least I got him to leave. I don't think Eric's exactly in the mood to deal with him tonight." She folded her arms across her chest.

"Not, uh…going well? With Karin?"

"Sookie, quite frankly, it never goes well with Karin. She is an addition we could have done without." Pam's accent had become quite clipped and pronounced as she'd said that. I was getting the distinct impression she wasn't a big fan of Karin's.

I wondered what the story was there, but it'd have to wait for later. "I suppose Victor will be back tomorrow night," Pam said. "Looking for his money. When there's none here for him because that fucking cocksucker has already bloody pissed off with the whole shagging lot!" Pam was clearly angry about the situation and it made me a little wary about what I had to say next.

"Um…I need to speak to Eric. And, possibly, Karin." Pam looked at me sharply. "I don't think that's a good idea, Sookie."

"About work. And, uh, Victor."

"Did he say something?" she asked, frowning a little.

"Not so much. But I have an idea that I'd like to run past Eric."

Pam sighed and looked a little flustered. "Well. If you're sure you want to. But be warned, Karin can be a little…hard to take."

"You don't like her, do you?" I asked Pam, as she started to walk towards the back of the bar.

"I try not to think about her," Pam replied, curtly, and then she threw open the door of Eric's office and I stepped inside.

Karin, at least I presumed it was Karin, looked up from where she was sitting behind the desk peering at the computer screen. "Yes?" she asked, sounding neither annoyed nor particularly curious about my intrusion.

I meanwhile was a little taken aback by her appearance. I had supposed that someone Eric had once dated, in New York, might be glamorous and sophisticated in comparison to me. And, quite possibly, Karin was just that. But what struck me first were the similarities between us. Sure, you wouldn't exactly call her my doppelganger (which was a very handy word I'd learned from reading a book about twin Austrian countesses separated at birth); her hair was an ash blonde, rather than a golden one, her nose completely different, her lips a lot thinner. But despite that, there was something, something about her large blue eyes that made me a little uncomfortable.

I looked over at Pam who was watching me as well. Three blondes walk into a bar. Somewhere, we were the opening line of a joke.

And then I realised that Karin was probably waiting for me to answer. "I need to speak to Eric," I said.

Karin rolled her eyes. "I'm sure the napkin count could wait. Or Pam could do it." Pam glowered at Karin, but didn't say anything. "It is actually quite important. It's, uh, about those payments out of the account."

Karin sat up straighter and looked me up and down. And then the door opened and Eric walked in. If that was the punch line to the joke I'd somehow stumbled into, I didn't know if it was all that funny. My insides gave a little lurch and I realised the last time I'd seen him we'd been in my bed, naked. I wondered if I'd ever be able to be in the same room as him again without longing to touch him.

I hoped so. I hoped it would fade away in time like the memories of what things we'd done when we'd been naked in my bed and how I'd felt while we'd been doing them. I guessed it was only natural to feel some kind of connection to a man you'd shared a bunch of orgasms with.

And then I looked at Karin, and wondered if she felt the same thing, shut in this little office with Eric all night. And a lot of my longing faded. Was I just Karin 2.0?

Eric moved towards the desk, giving me, I noticed, as wide a berth as he could possibly manage in the cramped office with all three of us crowded in here. Once he was standing beside his desk he looked at Karin. "She has something to say," Karin said, holding out her hand to indicate me.

"That's Sookie," Eric said, with as little inflection as he could manage. He might as well have said 'That's the refrigerator.'

"Pleased to meet you. Karin," I said to her, in the hope that might put us on a more even footing.

I don't think it did. Karin looked at me and frowned. "So…anything you want to confess?" she asked.

I looked at her for a moment, and then I looked at Eric, who looked a little worried and a lot confused, and then I gave up on the pair of them, and looked over at Pam who was still loitering beside the wall.

"I know who took the money," I said. Pam raised her eyebrows at me and looked interested.

"What's Victor been saying to you?" Eric asked, quickly, and I turned back to look at him.

"I don't think it was Victor." Eric started to say something, but I held up my hand to silence him. "I think it was Long Shadow."

**Before I go I'd like to pimp Thyra10's new one-shot, an entry for the IWTS contest called 'Just a Gigolo'. I got to beta it, so I'm one step of ahead of everyone else and got to read it early on. It features an Eric trying to find a genuine connection with someone and struggling with it. It's very good and well worth the read.**

**Also, for those of you who used to read my Homestay stories, I started another one last week, which I'll be updating from time to time, called 'L is for Lover, Z is for Zombies.'**

**Thanks for reading!**


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N Thank you all so much for coming back, and a big hello to all the people who've been reviewing, and alerting and favoriting this in my absence. Real life has not been as kind!**

**Disclaimer: Not mine.**

It felt a little like Eric's office had been plunged into a vacuum; everything was silent and still. And then Eric spoke. "Long Shadow?" He sounded a little perplexed at the thought.

"I think so," I said, trying hard not to doubt myself.

"Who?" Karin asked.

"Barman," Pam supplied. Karin looked thoughtful. "The one with the hair?" she asked. Pam nodded. "Well that's a bit shit," Karin commented.

I didn't spend much time wondering why Karin thought it was a bit shit, because I was too busy watching Eric and Eric's reaction to my statement. I couldn't quite read the expression on his face, although mostly I was just looking at his eyes. Deep blue eyes which were staring straight at mine.

It made me feel a little naked, and I wasn't sure I wanted to feel that naked in front of Eric. Not then, and not there.

I looked away first.

"Why would you think that?" Eric asked. He wasn't exactly demanding, but I got the impression he wanted me to spill whatever great insider knowledge I clearly had.

Trouble was that I didn't have any of that. All I had was my gut feeling, and maybe some past experience, to go on. It didn't seem much in the harsh light of Eric's office with three pairs of eyes looking at me.

"Because it wouldn't be a smart move on Victor's part to come back here, when he would surely know you've realised the money's missing." I waited for Eric's response, and he looked thoughtful for a moment.

"I don't think you should necessarily assume that Victor thinks like you do, Sookie," he said. "He's much more interested in making a grand entrance."

I thought about Victor's entrance to the bar earlier that night, when he'd slipped in a puddle and nearly ended up on the ground. There wasn't much grand about that. But I could see Eric's point.

"Oh, sure. He's all about the appearance of things, and, you know, the chandeliers from eBay and stuff…" I trailed off, noticing the deep crease in Eric's forehead as he tried to follow along with my thought process. "He did talk to me, he just didn't confess, OK?"

"And you talked about chandeliers?" Eric asked.

"Yes."

"Expensive ones?" Karin asked, from her seat behind the desk. I guess she'd been a little bored and decided to join in.

"I suppose so."

"So…" Pam began to think out loud, and gave out a vibe that she definitely didn't want to be left out of the conversation. "So, he's been buying expensive chandeliers?"

"Yes. But that's kinda beside the point." I was getting a little frustrated that their thinking wasn't going in the same direction as mine had, and that there were three of them to interrupt me. I took a deep breath, and tried again.

"He says he hasn't bought in to his new bar…yet. Says he's waiting on the last part of the money from this place before he can. So I don't know where the money he stole would have gone, assuming that he was the one who stole it."

I waited for their reaction to that.

"Moving across the country's quite expensive," Karin said, to Eric.

"You would know," Pam muttered, to the floor.

"What would Long Shadow gain?" Eric asked me.

"Money," I pointed out, thinking that one had been obvious from the start.

"But he must know that if the bar goes under, then he loses his job," Eric said, still speaking to me. I caught a glimpse of Karin looking a little annoyed and bored behind Eric and I tried to maintain a very neutral manner. No way did I want to preen in front of her. Not when I wasn't sure whether I had anything to preen about. Or whether there was even a competition.

And possibly I was a non-starter anyway.

"I just…I wonder if he has some kind of back-up?" I thought about the conversation I'd witnessed between Claude and Long Shadow, but didn't mention it. If I was having trouble convincing Eric that Long Shadow had taken the money, then I was never going to convince him there was some kind of conspiracy going on as well. "Um…like a job somewhere else?"

I didn't sound convincing, even to my own ears. Eric pulled a face. "It's possible, but it seems a little far-fetched."

"The job or stealing the money?" I asked, and then I waited for Eric to reply. But Eric didn't reply, and Karin jumped in again.

"She's probably right, Eric," she said, and Eric turned to look at her again. Karin sat back in the chair and fixed Eric with a long, level look. "Well, duh. Think about it," she continued, and, although I was pleased she was coming around to my way of thinking, I didn't know that her argument was really going to sway Eric. But she kept going, "You really think someone would go to all that trouble to steal money off you?"

"Victor might." Eric sounded a little petulant when he said that, and he looked over at Pam, as though he expected her to confirm it. She just shrugged.

"Yeah, but this kind of stuff is usually a crime of opportunity. It's just petty theft." Karin waved a hand dismissively.

Eric's expression suggested he didn't find it all that petty.

"And even if it was Victor," Karin said, sounding as though she didn't really believe it could be. "How on earth would he have been able to get into the system? It's not like it is in the movies…you're not actually able to hack into any computer just by hitting the right three keys. I mean, until we can get the bank to trace where the payments went we won't know for sure…and even then, all we'll get is an account name. They won't tell us more than that. So I'd say at this point he's a likely suspect."

Eric folded his arms and frowned. "Well. Not sure how we can prove it either way," he said, sounding quite disgruntled about the whole thing.

"I guess it's too late to dust the keyboard for fingerprints," Pam said, looking pointedly at Karin.

"I'm just here because I was asked here," she said. "So please Pam, stop trying to bait me."

I looked at Eric, and waited for him to acknowledge any of us, but he still seemed lost in thought. I was thinking that maybe I'd go back out to the bar and let Eric just ruminate on it all, when I noticed that Karin had fixed me with a curious stare.

That made me really uncomfortable.

"So…where do you fit in to all this?" she asked me.

"Oh. I've just been out talking to Victor. Pam asked me to."

"Hmm. But you knew about the missing money. When you came in here, you knew that's what we're looking for." That didn't really sound like Karin was asking me a question, in fact, it sounded a little like an accusation. I was thinking about how to reply to it, when Eric stepped in on my behalf.

"Well Sookie found the entries for me. I got her to take a look at the books when I couldn't…uh. When we realised there'd been some fraud." Karin started frowning as Eric said that.

"I used to be an accounts clerk," I explained. "Before I came to work here. I'm good with reconciliations…and…you know, stuff." I finished that sentence a little less eloquently than I'd started it, but I think Karin understood me.

She wasn't looking at me now, anyway. She was looking back at Eric and when he turned, she threw up her hands. "So why the hell am I here Eric, if you've got whatshername?"

"Sookie," both Pam and I said at the same time, but Eric was silent for a moment. Then he just shrugged and said "Thought you could help."

"Well, as much as I'm sure I would like to help you, Eric, my time isn't cheap and dragging me out here for nothing is kinda fucking annoying. I'm not actually living my life at your sole convenience."

"No," Eric said, looking down. "No. That's something I've understood for a while, Karin."

Karin held up her hands up in surrender. "Fine. Have it your way. At least I can say I tried, even if I was a little surplus to requirements." She turned to Pam. "It's kinda obvious you've been thinking that all along."

"I wasn't sure why Eric brought you in here, that's true. It's nothing personal." Pam might have said that, but even I could see that it was. Pam stood up a little straighter and smoothed down the front of her beautiful dress, before patting her hair gently.

There was something about the tension between the two of them that I couldn't quite put my finger on. But then everyone in the room was tense, I guessed. I knew I was. I was still waiting for Eric to do or say something more about my accusation against Long Shadow, but whatever he was thinking, he was keeping it to himself. It was like watching a statue and hoping it'd do something interesting.

Clearly, the tension was getting to Karin. "I am going to get myself a drink," she said, and she walked out of the office without saying anything further. I was hoping things would be a little pleasanter now we were one person down, but, almost as soon as the door closed behind Karin, Pam rounded on Eric.

"I did say that we didn't need her, Eric. But you thought we couldn't do without her. She'll probably try and charge you for her time." Pam sighed, loudly.

"Pam. Just…leave it," Eric said, and he sounded kind of weary. I couldn't help but worry a little bit about how tired he might be and whether I'd actually helped him by throwing another suspect into the ring. But then he left the room as well and I never got the chance to ask him how he was doing.

Pam looked worried too, when it was just her and I left in the room, but I wasn't sure if she was worried about Long Shadow, or Eric, or Karin or something else entirely. "So…that's Karin, huh?" I tried, as a way to broach what was going on in her mind.

"Yes. It is indeed, Sookie." Pam's mouth was now a tight line as she pressed her lips together.

"She seems, uh…not as bad as I expected." Maybe not as bad as Pam had led me to believe she was.

"She's OK," Pam agreed. "In very small doses."

"You, um…you don't like her much, do you Pam?"

"I…um…" Pam appeared to be stalling, and then I guess she gave up. "Not very much, no."

As much as none of this was really my business, I was a little worried about an overload of tension. It had been pretty uncomfortable when all four of us had been in the office, and no matter what, we were stuck dealing with the fact that it may have been Long Shadow who was stealing from the bar and fewer personal grudges might make that a little easier.

On us, I wondered, or on Eric? I spent a moment trying to work out if this was simply a misguided attempt to talk Pam off the ledge in order to protect Eric, and then curiosity got the better of me and I asked anyway. "So, why don't you like Karin, Pam?"

Pam shrugged, and looked for a moment like a small girl who'd been caught rummaging through her mother's closet again. It was a most un-Pamlike look. "I just…I have my reasons."

"I'm sure you do, but I think that really, at this time, we have to put those aside. I mean, I don't feel that awkward having her here." Well, I was trying to pretend that I didn't, anyway.

"Oh," Pam said, turning to me. "Yes. OK." She sounded a little surprised. "I mean, that's good. I don't think he's exactly going to run off with her."

"So…it's something else?" I asked. I was a little confused. The night before Pam had taken me aside and warned me that Eric was bringing Karin here. I had thought that the fact they'd had a relationship in the past was what we were worried about.

"Yes…and no," Pam said, which wasn't really all that helpful. "She didn't treat him very well before."

"OK." I thought about that. "But if, as you say, he's not all that interested in her now, then probably we don't have to worry about that, do we?"

Pam smiled at me. "Is this the royal we, or is this both of us?"

"Um. Yes. Kind of…both." I wasn't sure what the right answer to that was, but Pam didn't press me to keep trying.

"I know. I should let it go. But she was particularly disloyal to Eric in the past and I worry that trusting her with this is really a bridge too far."

"Did she, um, did she leave him for someone else?" I wondered if this was the heartbreak Pam had alluded to once before when she'd been speaking about Eric.

But she turned to me sharply. "Oh. Oh no. They were never that serious. It was just an occasional thing, when it suited them both."

"So…?"

"So that's probably a good thing. Considering she's the one who cost him his job."

"Oh. OK." It had been a while since I'd thought about Eric being somewhere else, other than here, or what he might have been doing before he bought a bar in Louisiana. Clearly, I had been taking my own advice and living in the moment.

But now I was really curious. "So…Karin fired him?"

"Not exactly. But she was the one who wrote up the recommendation that Eric's department be…disbanded."

"And then he got fired?"

Pam gave a weak smile. "It was a little more polite than that, but yes, he was let go."

"Oh. That's…oh…" I wasn't sure what it was. It was new information, that was certain, and I wasn't sure I was ready to process it there and then. "And then he bought this bar?"

"Well…first he gave a bunch of money to a very nice lawyer who was unfortunately unable to convince Eric's employers that they had committed a grave error in giving him his marching orders. After that he had a very rough patch where he was quite unpleasant to be around, and then he bought a bar in Louisiana. As you do."

"OK." I wasn't sure if you did, but Eric had. "And so…we don't like Karin because she said Eric shouldn't keep his job?"

"We don't like Karin because she was someone Eric hired and she turned out to be more than a little ungrateful. It's all very well being ruthless in business, but there have to be limits," Pam said, vehemently. I was trying to figure out how to deal with the knowledge that I wasn't the first person Eric had hired and then slept with.

I think Pam noticed that my expression looked a little concerned. "But I think any of their, um, liaisons occurred long after she'd stopped working directly for him." I wasn't sure if that was comforting to me or not.

Maybe I'd just file it in the growing list of things I wasn't going to think about right then. It seemed to be the night for it.

"Well," I said, standing up a little straighter and trying to gather my thoughts. "He can't be holding a grudge against her, if he brought her here. So I guess we just make the best of it." Then I turned on my heel and I marched out of Eric's office before Pam could load me up with anything else I'd end up dwelling on late into the night.

I knew I should go back to the bar and see how the other waitresses were getting on, but I was too jumpy. I'd likely drop something, or say something to Jason's companion about how rude she'd been to me, and if Eric was out there then…

I wasn't sure what would happen if I saw Eric out there. I was all jumbled up inside and didn't know whether I wanted to hug him or slug him. Pam telling me more about his past just made everything worse, not better.

I wished we could go back two nights and it could just be me and Eric all alone again. I knew it was never going to happen, that what we'd had was just an interlude and that all this other stuff that was going on and getting more and more complex by the minute was the real world. I knew that. I knew _it_. I did.

But I still wished, deep down in the secret part of my heart, that it wasn't true.

So, jumpy and jittery as I was I headed to the employee bathroom off the storeroom where I checked my appearance in the mirror. I looked OK, if a little tired. I twisted my head and examined my ponytail. It was a little messy and I thought that maybe if I brushed it out I'd feel better.

I walked back out to where the lockers were, and I pulled mine open so I could find grab my brush out of my purse. I located it, and retrieved it, humming a little to myself. I'd tried so hard to block out all the things I was too weary to dwell on, that all I had left going through my head, over and over, were the words to the song we'd been dancing to earlier in the evening. _I want to scream and shout, let it all out_.

It seemed more than a little appropriate given my current twitchy and frustrated mood.

I kept singing the song to myself and threw in a few hip rolls to the beat I was hearing in my head. I switched to a figure 8 movement, and then a dip, running my hairbrush up the inside of my leg as I straightened my legs back up. I pulled my hair out of its ponytail, still intending to go back to the bathroom and brush it, but flicked it down and up a couple of times instead. And then I went all out and threw in a few dance steps, and some more hip rolls. I was slowly moving myself in the direction of the bathroom, and I was letting off some steam; that was something I needed to do.

I just didn't need an audience. "That's, uh…impressive," Eric said, from behind me.

I felt like I jumped straight up in the air, and my brush slipped out of my hand and hit the ground with a loud clatter. "Jesus!" I exclaimed, before I bent to pick it up.

"Nope. It's me," Eric replied, with the ghost of a smile on his lips. He sounded as though he was feeling better than he had done when he'd left the office, and I wondered if he'd come to some kind of a decision about Long Shadow, or maybe he'd just been out in the bar socialising with Karin and enjoying her company.

"Yes," I agreed, a little dumbly. "It is you." Now that we were actually face to face and without an audience all the questions I'd had for Eric just disappeared. I was far more interested in his actual physical presence than his emotional wellbeing or his business strategies. I felt at a disadvantage, and I struggled to pull my thoughts together.

But then Eric walked up to me and he just gathered me up in his arms and quite surprisingly, given how jittery I'd felt around him all night, I actually felt a little better when he did that, a little less like I was a sausage jumping about in a hot pan.

I think Eric got something out of it too. Tentatively, as though he was testing whether I could take it, he relaxed against me and I ended up supporting a little of his weight. Maybe that told me what I needed to know about Eric's state of mind at the moment.

We stayed like that for a while, probably longer than we should have, and then Eric kissed me. Unlike our previous kisses, in his office and at my home, this one wasn't fuelled by desire and passion. At least, not exclusively. This was different. It was less urgent, less hungry. It wasn't about what was going to happen next, it was about us enjoying the present. At least I thought it was.

And I was starting to like the present.

But then Eric pulled back. "I have to go and fix this," he said.

"How?"

Eric sighed. "I'm going to give Long Shadow the opportunity to come clean."

"Um. OK." I thought about how that could go. "You don't want to…I don't know, call the police or something first? Let them investigate."

Eric pulled a face that plainly showed what he thought of the Bon Temps police force. "I think it's better this way. If we involve the police then it could take a while…"

"And you need to see if Long Shadow will cough some of the money back up so you can get Victor off your back?"

Eric smiled at me. "Exactly, Sookie."

"And if he doesn't?" I thought it seemed unlikely he'd voluntarily hand his ill-gotten gains back to Eric.

"Then we cross that bridge when we come to it." I was worried that we might end up defending that bridge when it all turned nasty, but Eric was set on that course now and I didn't think I could dissuade him. Or, more to the point, I didn't want to be the one who had dissuaded him if no other option turned out to be suitable.

So cross it we would.

"I guess you'd better go then," I said to Eric. "And figure out how to broach it with him. And I had better get back to waitressing." I gave Eric one final pat on his arm, and I walked into the bathroom and quickly re-did my ponytail. By the time I stepped back into the storeroom, Eric was gone.

I went back into the bar to face the music. Long Shadow was still behind the bar and Eric was nowhere to be seen. So whatever was going to happen probably hadn't happened yet. I felt a little relieved at that.

I caught up with Ginger and then took a good look around the bar. It was still busy, not completely full, but busier than we were used to. I figured I should be grateful that Ginger hadn't been complaining to me about her and Dawn holding the fort while I was out the back with Eric.

Nope. Not thinking about that now.

But, as busy as it was, there were still a few spare tables. So Karin could have sat at one of those if she'd wanted, but it looked like she'd found a companion instead. Or maybe he'd walked up and asked to sit with her. She was definitely attractive, after all, and she stood out around here with her tight black cigarette pants that might as well have been sprayed on, and her creamy coloured blouson top, with slashed sleeves and a print of gold leaves. So I could see how she might be popular.

With Bill. When I moved, I got a better look at the face of the guy she was sitting with and it was definitely Bill. Even I had to admit that they made quite a handsome couple.

So that was…interesting.

While I was standing there, Dawn hustled over, her mouth in a prim line and her eyes gleaming with mischief. I could guess that after her crummy night waiting on Jason and Crystal she was just itching to put the boot into me. "So, who's that with Bill?" she asked, in a conspiratorial fashion. "She's come in with Eric, right?"

Dawn looked at me, hoping, I supposed, for some kind of unpleasant reaction to Karin's presence. I think that between the dancing in the storeroom and the hug from Eric, I'd done all the emotional maintenance I needed to that night. This…this could wait for a later time.

"That's Karin," I said to Dawn. "She's an old colleague of Eric's. Or, as I like to think of her, Sookie 2.0."

Dawn gave me a look that suggested she thought I was a few sandwiches short of a picnic. "You know, Jason seems awful normal," she said. "Considering who he's related to." And then she left me, to go and see if Jason needed anything, Crystal having just stood up to walk to the ladies room.

I figured I might as well bite the bullet and check on Bill and Karin. "Hey there. Can I get you-all anything else?"

Bill looked up at me and, for just a moment, he seemed a little startled, although he regained his composure almost immediately. "Sookie," he said. "I didn't realise you were working tonight."

"Oh yes. There's plenty of people to serve so I'm here."

"There, and everywhere," Karin added. "Eric's keeping you very busy." She gave me a big smile and Bill looked warily from me to Karin and back again. I felt a little sorry for him.

"Well, I'm here so I'd rather be busy…and helpful. So, anyway, more drinks?"

Karin looked like she might say something else to me, but then she turned to Bill instead. "Can I buy you another drink?" she asked, fixing him with a big smile that really did make her look quite pretty.

Bill went from looking worried to looking slightly star-struck. "Sure, that'd be very nice, Karin."

"Two scotch and sodas then," Karin said to me, only flicking her eyes in my direction. Bill was getting all her attention at the moment and mostly, he was welcome to it.

I went to the bar to place the order, a little warily. I didn't think Eric had spoken to Long Shadow yet, even though he'd announced that had been his plan. But all the same, I felt suspicious of Long Shadow and I was sure he could pick up on that.

"So, uh, two scotch and sodas!" I said, a lot more cheerfully than the simple order warranted.

"You happy he's finally got it figured out, then?" Long Shadow asked me, and my heart started hammering in my chest. He knew. He had to know. How, I wondered, was I going to get away from him?

Long Shadow was looking at me oddly. "Or were you planning on keeping both of them all for yourself?"

"Um…what?" I was a little lost.

"Her." Long Shadow nodded at Karin. "Ain't sure where she came from, but she's got your boyfriend wrapped around her finger now. Or some part of her, anyhow." He chuckled. "Guess that means you gotta keep sweet with the boss now, huh?"

"I just…no. It's not like that." Now I was just annoyed with Long Shadow.

He shrugged. "Yeah, you say that but you chicks, you're all the same. The more men you have hanging around you, the more important you think you are. You know, you're not that special. It's just a pussy. It ain't magic."

"Euw." For a moment I considered accusing Long Shadow of theft myself, just to wipe the smirk off his face.

But I didn't. He'd just turn that against me too, and make it seem like I was doing it solely for the chance to, I don't know, win Eric I guess. "I'll be back for the drinks," I told him, and I left.

I did the rounds of the other tables, picked up Bill and Karin's drinks without making any conversation with Long Shadow. He tried, though. "Bet it just chaps your ass that he's found a replacement, huh?" Long Shadow asked me, as I loaded the drinks onto my tray. "Or maybe you like that?"

I just walked away.

"Thank you, Sookie," Bill said, smoothly, when I placed his drink in front of him. Karin gave me a grudging "Thanks," but then said "So, and then you got an offer on the business?" to Bill, and I considered myself dismissed.

I worked for a little while longer, wondering all the time when Eric was going to say something to Long Shadow. Maybe he'd wait until the end of the night, I thought.

And then I was shaken from my musings by the appearance of Claude in the bar again. He clearly hadn't bothered with a coat or an umbrella and he arrived looking like the winner of a wet t-shirt contest. He paused in the doorway, as though he was waiting for everyone to look in his direction. When a few people had, including Karin, which from his expression, annoyed Bill slightly, Claude strolled nonchalantly over to where I was standing.

"Sookie," he said, pleasantly. "How nice to see you again." He enveloped me in a hug which might have been slightly more welcome if I hadn't been concerned about joining Claude in the wet t-shirt contest after we were done hugging.

This felt weirdly formal and, well, just plain odd. I'd only seen him in here the night before, and now he greeted me like we were long-lost friends or relatives gathered together at a 90th birthday party.

"Hey, Claude. Why don't you take that table over there, and I'll be right over with a menu?" Claude did as I'd asked him and I hustled off to get the promised menu. Ginger was standing beside the shelf we kept them on and nudged me in the side as I bent down. "He's back in again," she told me.

"I noticed."

"He, uh…he seeing anyone?" she asked me, a little breathlessly.

"I don't think so. But he's sure interested in those guys from the airforce base." I straightened up and looked at Ginger's face. "Oh. OK. Well, doubt he'd be interested in me anyway, even if he wasn't a gay. I'll just…" she paused. "Oh, look. Jane's gonna topple again. Jane! You just hold on there!" She left to go and stop Jane ending up on the floor, and I took the menu to Claude.

"I really just came in to talk to you," he said, when I handed it to him.

"Well, I'm a waitress. If you want to talk to a waitress, you gotta order something."

"Fine." Claude sounded snippy. "I'll have a bourbon and cola." He handed me the menu and glanced around the bar. "You got a sister?" he asked me, which was odd because no one had ever, ever mistaken Jason for a girl before.

Then I realised where he was looking. "No. That's Karin. We ain't related."

"Pity. If she could dance too, you could have gone far as a double act."

I decided to just let that one lie and took his order to the bar, where there was no sign of Long Shadow. "I got asked to step in," Ginger said, as she walked around to the other side of the bar.

"Oh. OK." A tight, hard knot formed in my stomach.

"It's all right, Ginger," Pam said, as she appeared on my other side and got behind the bar. "I'll take over now." Ginger left, and then Pam gave me a big wink. "All systems are go!" she said brightly, which just made that knot in my stomach tighten even more. I didn't think it was wise for Eric to go hurling accusations at Long Shadow by himself.

Jane leaned over the bar to Pam. "You with the military, miss?"

Pam gave Jane a small smile. "Not quite. And Sookie's our best spy, anyway."

Jane turned to look at me. "I don't think it's right you people comin' down here and stealin' all our secrets. I gotta good mind to go tell those boys from the base what you're up to."

"Oh, Jane," I said. "Pam was only teasing."

Jane blinked a few times. "Well, I knew _that_, Sookie!" She laughed like this was the funniest thing ever. "I was just teasin' too!"

"OK then," I said, probably a little dubiously. It was hard to know what was what with Jane sometimes.

"And anyways, that other fella, he took the bartender away for interrogation already. Suspect we won't see him again!" She took a long sip of her drink.

I gave Pam a look that was meant to say 'do you think Eric's OK out there?', but Pam just shrugged. "What are we getting your new friend over there, the one who can't keep his eyes off you?" she asked me.

"Oh, um. That's Claude. Claudine's brother. He'll have a bourbon and cola."

"Oh. Right. Yes, you can see the resemblance." Pam looked thoughtful, and then she turned to make the drink. When she handed it over she glanced over my shoulder and saw something else. "Is that where she got to?" Pam asked, nodding at Karin and Bill.

"Yep." I hoped I managed to say that without inflection.

Jane turned in her seat to see what we were looking at. "I think Sookie's going to marry that Bill Compton," she said, pointing at Karin. "I suspect it'll be a big wedding too."

"_I'm_ Sookie, Jane!" It was hard not to be exasperated with her sometimes.

Jane looked offended and turned away from me, muttering.

"If they do get married," Pam said to me, "Can I be your date to the wedding?" She grinned at me.

"I don't know. Can you be trusted not to pelt the bride with rice?"

Pam just raised her eyebrows at me and I left to take Claude his drink. I'd been distracted from thinking about Eric and Long Shadow for a few moments at least, but it wasn't to last. No sooner had I placed Claude's glass on a napkin, and he'd started talking to me, when I saw Eric standing at the door to the back of the bar, gesturing for me to come over.

Oh no.

As much as I didn't think it was wise for Eric to try to confront Long Shadow by himself, I didn't see why I had to be the person with him. Being Eric's backup didn't seem any more appealing than being his first line of defence had, earlier in the evening. Honestly, if Karin and I were that interchangeable I was going to nominate that she go and help Eric and I have a nice quiet drink with Bill. That seemed more equitable. She was the more ruthless one, after all. And, more to the point, I'd never got Eric fired, so what did he have against me?

But I told Claude I'd be back, which made him pout, and I walked out there anyway. "I just need you to come out and confirm something for us," Eric said, and then he turned and led the way back to the office.

Long Shadow was sitting in there with a scowl on his face and his arms folded across his chest. I was kind of pleased that I was still carrying my tray, just in case I needed to defend myself.

"What can I help you with, Eric?" I said, as pleasantly as I could.

"We've been looking over some of the payments that have been made, Sookie," Eric said, sitting back down at his desk. "And there's a handful of suppliers which we've been paying that we don't seem to have received any invoices from. There's a list of them…" Eric slid a piece of paper across the desk. "You definitely haven't found any of these invoices in the files, have you?"

I looked at the list. They were all the dubious suppliers who'd received payments by us authorised by 'Victor'. "Nope," I said. "I couldn't find any of those invoices, Eric."

I looked over at Long Shadow, who shrugged and then said sullenly "Filing system around here is pretty shit."

"It's not," I said. "I tidied everything." That was a mistake, as Long Shadow looked up at me from his seat and his expression was hard and hostile. "Well, aren't you the helpful little worker-bee," he sneered. "And here I was thinking you were in here performing other services for him. Say, Eric? You're sure gettin' a good deal out of her. She files and sucks cock."

I bit my tongue, and bit it hard at that. And I waited for Eric to say something in my defence, but he didn't. He simply moved the piece of paper on the desk so it was facing Long Shadow, rather than me. "I think we need to concentrate on the issues at hand," Eric said, looking straight at Long Shadow. "And that is how we ended up paying so much money to a bunch of people no one here seems to have ever heard of."

"I don't know about you, Eric, but I'd rather concentrate on where Sookie's hands could be right now." Long Shadow was ignoring Eric and looking at me, and he sat back in his chair, spread his legs wide and, after putting his arms behind his head, laughed.

I tightened my grip on my tray and tried not to feel hurt that Eric wasn't saying anything to defend me. I understood why he wasn't going to start a debate with Long Shadow about my possible sexual availability. Rising to Long Shadow's bait wasn't going to get Eric the answers he needed and it was no doubt just a delaying tactic or an attempt to find Eric's weakness or possibly both. So Eric's silence was nothing if not understandable. But it sure didn't feel good to have to stand here and endure it.

Maybe I'd just leave. "Is that all you need me for, Eric?" I asked.

"Yes. Thank you, Sookie. You can get back to work now." Eric's eyes barely flicked in my direction and I couldn't read his expression. He was locked down, engaged in some kind of silent war of wills with Long Shadow who he was staring at intently.

Long Shadow, however, was still intent on humiliating me. "I'll see you back out there, Sookie," he said. "I'm sure I've got something I'll need you for."

I wanted to tell him to bite me, to get lost, that I'd sooner eat off my own arm than let him touch me, but I resisted that urge and simply went back to work. And there was a lot of work to do. It was nearing the time of night when people were making a decision about whether this was a drinking night or a going home to the family night, and, given the weather had not improved any, lots seemed to be opting for this to be a drinking night.

"You know, this was fun for the first five minutes," Pam said, as she was pouring drinks and getting a little flustered as all three waitresses were standing at the bar waiting for orders.

"I could help you out," Jane volunteered.

"Do I look like I came down in the last shower, Jane?" Pam said, sounding exasperated.

"What?" Jane asked.

"No. And you bloody know why. So sit on your stool and behave. Ginger, there's your order." She handed some drinks to Ginger who wisely skedaddled.

"Don't hurry with my order," Dawn said. "It's for that girl got her claws into Jason. Now she knows he's payin' she's ordering all the fancy drinks."

"I'd hardly call a Cosmo that fancy," Pam murmured.

"She seemed happy with beer before," Dawn complained.

When Dawn's order was filled, Pam got the drinks I needed and I took them over to a table of workers from the chicken processing plant. I saw Claude trying to get my attention, but so was another table, and they'd been waiting longer, so I decided to go to them first.

Possibly, that was a mistake.

As I was walking over to them, I saw Eric come out from the back and talk to Pam. Their heads bent together, neither of them looked at me, and so I turned back to let the two truck drivers I was waiting on tell me they needed another jug of beer.

When I started back to the bar to place the order, neither Eric nor Pam were there any longer, and I wondered for a moment how I was going to get the drinks I required. I eventually spotted Pam, with Eric, in the far corner of the bar. I guess they'd moved there for privacy. She held up a hand which I think meant she'd be there in a moment, but I decided it would be quicker if I just did it myself.

That was definitely a mistake.

Behind the bar, I had nowhere to go in a hurry, and, as I was bending down to get a clean jug off of the shelves, Long Shadow must have come through the door from the back. I was vaguely aware of Jane saying "You survived, then?", but I was making a point to ignore Jane lest I say something to her I would regret, so I didn't pay it any attention.

It was hard not to pay attention to Long Shadow, though, when I found myself face to face with him upon standing up. "You think you're pretty special, don't you Blondie?" he hissed at me.

"Sorry. Just filling in," I said, putting the jug on the bar and backing up a step. "We've been a little busy out here."

"That don't stop you when you need to run out the back to _file_, though does it? Any fucking time he wants you, you're there. And what are you doing out there? Getting me in the shit, that's what. I ain't stolen nothin', and I ain't carrying the can for you, Blondie. You fuckin' owe me."

He raised his hand and then I felt the blow on my cheek before I really figured out what was happening. After it was over, though, I did take a moment to think that I'd never been hit in the face by a man before I started working at the Roadhouse, and now it had happened twice.

I didn't, however, think too clearly about what to do to dodge any further blows. I guess I thought he'd stop at one. Or someone would stop him. I was vaguely aware of hearing Eric yell from the other end of the bar. I'm pretty sure that out of the corner of my eye I saw Bill stand up from his chair too. And the shout of "Hey, that's my fuckin' sister!" could only have come from one person. But all of this wasn't going to help me when I saw that Long Shadow had raised his hand again and that his face was twisted into something ugly and dark.

To my shame, I closed my eyes and waited for him to hit me.

But after a moment, when I realised that the second blow hadn't connected, I opened my eyes. Long Shadow was no longer looming over me, instead he was being pinned to the bar with one arm behind his back. When my gaze travelled further over the scene I discovered that the person who had stopped Long Shadow, and in the process saved me from further harm, was in fact Claude.

Whatever I had been expecting to happen, it sure wasn't that.

**Thanks for reading!**


	21. Chapter 21

**A/N Hello! Glad to see you back again!**

**Disclaimer: Not mine.**

I locked eyes with Claude who was looking positively triumphant. I made a conscious decision not to look at Long Shadow and see what expression he was sporting; I didn't think I'd want to see it.

"Um…thank you," I said, hoping Claude didn't take my hesitation as a sign that I wasn't grateful. I was still a little stunned to tell the truth and I was trying to figure out what had happened. Claude didn't say anything to me though; he leaned down and, I thought, whispered something to Long Shadow.

I realised that Bill was now next to me, standing on the other side of the bar. "Are you OK, Sookie?" he asked, concern flooding his face.

"Um…yeah," I replied, wondering if all my sentences were going to start with 'um' from now on. Perhaps I'd been hit too many times and this was the result, like those boxers who ended up drooling in their old age.

Eric arrived and took up the prime position leaning over the bar to look at me, by elbowing Bill out of the way. "She's all right," Bill said, to Eric.

Eric gave Bill a glance that suggested he wanted more concrete proof of that. "I'm fine," I said. "Check Claude's OK."

Eric, and then Bill, slowly turned and regarded Claude. "Claude?" Eric asked.

"Nice to meet you, I would shake hands, but I'm a little busy." Claude gave Eric a big smile that wasn't returned.

"Don't worry. I'll help you out," Jason said to Claude, as he appeared and put his hands on Long Shadow's head to hold him down, a little too enthusiastically I thought.

"Don't, uh, hurt him," I said to Jason, who looked like he'd just given Long Shadow a kick as well.

"See?" Jason shouted at Long Shadow. "Sookie's being nice to you, and that's after you beat her you asshole!" And then he ruined the moment by looking over to check that Crystal was watching him.

Meanwhile Eric had moved to the same side of the bar as me and wanted, I think, to examine my face more closely. Unfortunately I'd been so intent on watching Jason's actions that Eric surprised me a little, and I took a step back.

Eric looked annoyed at that, but at that point in time I couldn't really find it in me to worry about hurting his feelings.

"I think Sookie needs ice on that," Bill commented, and Eric whirled around, happy to find someone to take out his annoyance on. "Why don't you go and get some then, Bill?" he snapped at Bill, pointing to the kitchen.

Bill gave me a long look, perhaps trying to gauge whether I was really OK with being left with Eric. I gave a small nod, and he walked off to the kitchen.

Everyone in the bar was, I assumed, trying to get a good look at what had happened. But I couldn't really see them all staring at me, as Eric had edged closer and he was effectively blocking my view of everyone else. He put his hand on my chin and turned my face to the side and then sighed, noisily.

"Ice will help it," I said, although even as I did so I realised it was a little silly to be trying to make Eric feel better about the state of my face.

"Are you OK, Sookie?" Pam called out from somewhere behind Eric.

"Yep," I said, sounding far brighter than I felt. Right at that moment I wanted to go and sit in a quiet room all by myself and just burst into tears. But I wasn't going to cry out here, with all these people looking at me and Eric standing right there, touching my face.

And then he stopped touching me, and I wasn't sure if that was better or worse. "Here's the ice," Bill said, and he tried to hand the plastic bag filled with ice he'd brought over to me, but Eric intercepted it and held it to my face. I put my hand up and gently pushed his out of the way.

"I've called the police," Pam said. "They're on their way."

"What are you going to do with him in the meantime, Eric?" Bill asked. I assumed he was talking about Long Shadow.

"I think he's OK there," Eric said, but he didn't seem all that sure. He seemed to be considering Claude again. "Good thing you stopped him," Eric said to Claude.

"Well, I didn't think Claudine would want to lose her star pupil," Claude said, and Eric frowned at that statement.

"Claude is the brother of my dance teacher, Claudine," I explained.

"OK," Bill said slowly. Eric said nothing. "We're so very fond of her," Claude said, laying it on thick. For what purpose, I didn't know. He wasn't likely to be interested in me, and all it did was make both Bill and Eric bristle more. It was tempting to shout 'Down, boys!' like they were a pair of dogs straining at the leash.

The thought made me giggle. This, in turn, made Bill and Eric back down from Claude and turn their attention back to me. "I really think she should sit down," Bill said to Eric, instead of actually being useful and getting me a chair.

I wondered at what point taking care of Sookie had turned into a competitive sport. I maybe snickered a little bit at that thought.

"You're acting a little odd," Eric told me. "Are you sure you're all right?"

"Well, right now Eric, it's either laugh or cry and I know how much you hate the latter so you'll have to put up with this." I thought that was telling him.

"Sweetheart, if you're upset you really should sit down." I hadn't realised that Bill had managed to insert himself on this side of the bar with us. It was getting a little crowded, but, to save space no doubt, Bill put an arm around my shoulders and pulled me to him.

Eric looked like he might murder someone, but I think that was because Bill was likely to make more points than he was for that manoeuvre. And they were all about the competition right at that moment.

And then, all of a sudden, it stopped being funny and I was just tired of it all. "I do want to sit down. By myself. I'll be in Eric's office." Without looking at either of them, and with the ice still pressed to my cheek, I pushed through the door to the back and headed straight to the office.

I was glad to get away and be by myself, but I wasn't alone for long. Pam opened the door and stuck her head around it, just as the first tears started to roll down my cheeks. She gave me a sympathetic look and then said, "The police are here."

"Oh. OK. I guess I should come out then." I got up from the chair I was sitting on.

"No. It's all right. I can send them back here. I just wanted to make sure you were, uh…ready for them." Pam looked concerned.

"Oh. Yeah. I'll get it over with." Pam started to leave. "But, uh, um…what's going on out there now?"

"Now?" Pam's forehead creased. "Well, the police have taken over minding Long Shadow from Claude and Jason. Jason offered to buy Claude a beer, but his girlfriend doesn't seem that thrilled about it. I think she thinks she has competition."

"I'm not sure Jason's all that likely to run off with Claude."

"Claude doesn't see it that way," Pam said, raising her eyebrows.

"And, uh, everyone else?"

"Um, well. It's a little tense. But I think the police being here has given Eric something else to focus on. He's explained about the possibility of Long Shadow stealing from the business and how that prompted the attack. Bill is, uh, well he's talking to Karin."

"Oh. OK." I'd wanted them to find something else to do other than circle around me, but it did feel a little like now that I was out of sight, I was definitely out of mind. I sighed. There was clearly no pleasing me tonight.

Pam kept looking at me, but she didn't say anything. I was grateful for that. "So, I'll send them back, shall I?" she asked.

"Yep. Send 'em on in!" I was back to forced cheerfulness and it rang hollow even in my own ears.

Pam turned on her heel and left and, a few moments later, Kevin Pryor and Kenya Jones walked in. "Hey, Sookie," Kenya said, quietly, like she didn't want to spook me. "I heard you had a little trouble out in the bar earlier."

Well that seemed like an understatement.

"Yeah. Uh, Long Shadow's never liked me much."

"He hit you before?" Kevin asked quickly.

"Nope. But he's been real mean since I started."

"Why'd he hit you tonight?" That was Kenya, and as she asked that, her eyes raked over me. Oh. Euw. I got the impression she was trying to size up if this was some kind of lover's quarrel.

"I've been helping Eric with the bookkeeping for this place…on account of the work I used to do over at Herveaux's?" I paused, and Kenya nodded, so I continued on, with Kevin making notes as I spoke. "I, um, well some money went missing and…uh…" I didn't want to say that I'd been the one who'd accused Long Shadow on the basis of very little actual evidence. "Um…there'd been some payments that we couldn't reconcile. And Eric asked Long Shadow about them…I was there for part of that discussion." Discussion made it sound a lot friendlier than it had been though.

I took a deep breath and carried on. "So after it was done, Long Shadow came out and it seemed like he blamed me for it all. Said it was my fault that Eric was questioning him, and then he hit me. And then Claude grabbed him before he could hit me again."

"And who is this Claude guy?" Kevin asked. "You know him?"

"Kind of. He came in for a drink, but I met him through my dance teacher, Claudine Crane. It's her brother." Kevin and Kenya exchanged what I thought was a very knowing glance. Maybe they knew more about Claude than they were letting on. "We'll have to get a statement from him," Kenya murmured, and Kevin nodded.

It was all very frustrating feeling like I was out of the loop.

"Anything else you want to add, Sookie?" Kenya asked me, and, for a split second, I thought about confessing about me and Eric. Why, I didn't know. Maybe it was just the fact of being shut in an office with two police officers and feeling like I was required to lay my life bare. Maybe I was just tired and overwhelmed.

"No. I mean, it was all over in a few seconds. It just…it came out of the blue. Nobody could have seen it coming." I shrugged. As much as I was glad that Kevin and Kenya were here, it seemed a little out of proportion that this interview had been much longer than the actual attack itself.

"Yeah…" Kevin said, thoughtful, and I got an uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach. But then he squared his shoulders and flipped his notebook closed. "Guess not."

"OK. Well we might need you to come down to the station tomorrow and make a formal statement," Kenya said. "Assuming you're pressing charges?"

"Will he…I mean…are you gonna take him away?" I asked in a small voice. It suddenly occurred to me that they might just walk out of here and leave Long Shadow still out in the bar. Sure this time I knew my attacker, and I had a bar full of witnesses, but at the end of the day Long Shadow had hit a waitress, once. It wasn't exactly a felony and probably a lot closer some kind of domestic squabble. Maybe they'd just tell him not to do it again and consider that fulfilling their duty?

Kenya gave me a very serious look. "Oh no. We'll take him in. Hitting a woman's real serious." She paused, and shifted her stance a little. "Say, uh, you got hit the other week, too, didn't you Sookie?"

"Oh. That." It seemed so long ago now. I had really been having a rough time of it. I gave myself a mental shake so I didn't descend any further down the road of self-pity. "That was just a good –old run-of-the-mill accident in the home. I walked into a cupboard door that'd been left open." I finished with a smile, hoping that would sell my story.

Kenya pressed her lips together and glanced at Kevin, then back at me. "Well, you know. If you're ever in trouble, police are just a phone-call away, Sookie. Don't, uh…don't stay where you're not safe just to prove a point, OK?"

I nodded obediently, and hoped they'd leave it at that. They did. After checking the details they had for me were correct, they said they'd probably see me tomorrow, and they left. And then Eric arrived. I wondered if he'd been lurking in the corridor waiting to see Kevin and Kenya come out, but I decided I didn't want to know.

He came over to where I was sitting, and crouched down next to me. "That go OK?" he asked.

"Yeah. I think. I might have to go over it again tomorrow, but I think that's it for now."

Eric considered that. "Did they ask why he hit you?"

"Yep." I nodded. Eric looked like he was waiting for me to say something more. "I said, um…you know…about the missing money?" That finished as a question. I got the feeling Eric was expecting something from me, and I suddenly wasn't sure I'd done the right thing.

"That's what happened," Eric said, quietly. "And now they're going to investigate that, as well. Things don't look all that great for Long Shadow at the moment."

"No," I agreed. "But it won't get the money back."

Eric shrugged, but you could see that he cared a lot more about that than he was letting on. "I'm just sorry you got mixed up in it all."

It was tempting to tell him it was a little late for that, but I didn't. Instead I let him take me in his arms and hug me.

The hug was all too brief. "I should go back out there. They're interviewing that Claude guy." Eric looked at me, and I didn't say anything to that.

"It was very, uh, lucky that he was here," Eric said.

"Yep, it was." I was going to have to thank Claude properly. For all that he made me uneasy he'd proven himself to be a real friend to me tonight.

"Did you know he was going to come in?" Eric asked, and I thought the question was a little strange.

"No. But I mean, it's a bar…people come in for a drink. He'd been in last night as well." And he'd been talking to Long Shadow. Was that a coincidence or something more? I didn't know, and I wasn't about to start making unfounded accusations about Claude to Eric. I'd done that once already tonight and look where it had got me.

"I guess," Eric agreed, without actually sounding all that convinced. "OK. I'll go and see how the police are doing." He stood up and walked out and I sank back into the chair and tried to relax a little.

And then Karin opened the door and walked in. "I just need to get my purse," she said, not really looking at me.

"Are you going?" I asked her, as she walked around to where the purse was sitting beside Eric's desk.

"Yes. Bill's going to give me a lift to the motel I'm staying at." At least she wasn't staying with Eric, although maybe that was down to the fact that Pam was already there. I couldn't imagine the two of them sharing the same bathroom.

"Bill's good like that," I murmured, more so I'd have something to say than anything else.

Karin bent down to pick up her purse from the floor by Eric's desk, and then looked at me. "Yeah…he seems to know you quite well."

I shrugged. "We're neighbours." I realised the bag of ice I was still holding to my face was pretty much just a bag of water now, and I set it down on the desk.

"And are you anything else…?"

"Not now." There didn't seem to be much point giving Karin some big elaborate description of what had been between us. Bill and I were done and dusted.

"Well…I'm sure he's sad about that," Karin said, and I got the feeling that maybe she wasn't seeing much of a future with Bill. I guessed it was to be expected. She was just passing through after all.

I shrugged. I tried not to spend much time thinking about what Bill thought about me. It just didn't seem a very useful past-time now I'd made the decision we were not to be. Plus, recently at least, I'd had a great many other things that were taking up space in my brain.

Karin looked thoughtful for a moment. "At least everything worked out OK tonight," she said, as she started to walk past me.

I had known she wasn't my biggest fan, and the feeling was mostly mutual, but I was still a little shocked at that. I guess she read that in my expression as, before I could actually form a reply, she waved her hand a little to show that she didn't really mean that as it sounded. "I mean…for Eric. Or the bar, anyway."

"It did?" I asked. I didn't know that having members of staff beating each other up behind the bar really made this a local hang-out that people actually wanted to hang out in. Surely it couldn't have been good for business.

"Well don't you think so?" Karin frowned at me. "I mean, obviously you getting hurt was unfortunate but generally speaking it wasn't a bad night."

"In what way?" I asked slowly, not sure that I was following along with Karin's train of thought, and really not sure that I wanted to.

"Because Long Shadow's gone now. And Eric's had the opportunity to tell the police about the theft, without actually having to produce any real evidence. The violence has been enough to get the ball rolling and put him under suspicion. I mean, maybe they won't actually be able to prove he stole that money either, but he's out either way, and he can't really claim Eric got rid of him unfairly."

"Oh. OK." That did all make sense; I just wondered why I hadn't seen it that way. And then something occurred to me.

"Do you think Eric thought it would happen?"

Karin looked a little shifty. "I couldn't say. But you know what he's like…" she trailed off and searched my face. "You do know, right?"

I wasn't sure what the right answer was here. Too much bravado and I risked not learning something that might be potentially useful. Confess to the fact I didn't know all that much about Eric, and Karin would most likely think me naïve. It wasn't a great choice either way.

I shrugged. "I know he was mighty upset about Long Shadow taking the money."

"Well Eric doesn't take very kindly to people trying to beat him. He likes to win. At all costs." She stopped again. "I guess maybe you're a little new to Team Eric, huh?"

"There's a team?" This was news to me. "I mean, I thought I was on Team Save-the-Bar."

"Aren't they one and the same?" I didn't really have an answer to that question, but Karin didn't press me for one. I think that was answer enough.

I decided to ask her something. "And are you? Still on Team Eric I mean?"

Karin laughed at that. "Oh, well. I don't think you ever get to leave. Not really. I mean, sure Eric's been pissed at me in the past and I was certainly not his favourite person for a while there but I'm still here, aren't I?"

"You got him fired," I blurted out, and then I realised how bad it sounded. Karin shrugged it off though.

"I wrote a report which said that his reckless decision making really had no place in an investment firm in the middle of the Global Financial Crisis. The decisions taken on the basis of that report really weren't my doing."

"So…he was playing to win? Then?"

"And not really caring that much about the consequences. He was a dinosaur, and his time was passed." I thought that was a pretty heartless way to talk about someone who'd been your boss and sometime lover, but things seemed to be different in Karin's world. Maybe in Eric's world too. "But that's business for you," she continued. "If I learned anything from him, I learned that much from Eric. You play to win, you take the advantage when you can get it and you call in every favour you can. And that's where I come in, of course. My penance for writing that report is coming here to this shit-hole."

Ordinarily I might have been a little bit offended by Karin's description of my home town, but right then I was more concerned with the picture I was forming from all the things Karin was telling me. You might say it was a portrait of Eric, and not a very flattering one at that.

Had he just painted a big target on my back tonight, calling me into the office when Long Shadow was there? Was I really only ever going to be just another Karin to him, called on to be useful when it suited him, and discarded when it didn't?

It was a lot to think about and possibly more than a person who'd taken a blow to the face should have to deal with.

I was trying to figure out if I wanted to ask Karin anything else, or if I just wanted to pretend we'd never had this conversation when Bill stuck his head into the office. "Ah," he said, looking slightly uncomfortable. "I was just seeing if Karin was ready to leave. And, uh, to check that you're OK, Sookie."

I waved a hand, hoping to signify that I was fine, while Karin walked past me and over to Bill. "I'll be there in a minute," she said. "Just, um, wait out there."

"Oh. OK." Bill didn't seem particularly thrilled at that idea. "It's a little, uh…well; the customers have all gone now."

"Eric not happy?" Karin asked, in what was probably the understatement of the year.

Bill nodded and looked like he wanted to make a quick exit, but Karin put one hand on his arm and said "I'll be right out. I just want to ask Sookie something, OK?" She flashed Bill a huge smile that made her look quite pretty.

Bill nodded at Karin, then looked past her and called out. "Goodnight, Sookie. I hope you feel better."

"Thanks, Bill." I appreciated his good wishes, but I was kind of glad he was leaving all the same.

Karin closed the door and then pulled what looked like a tuxedo jacket off the small coatrack. She pulled it on and then turned to look at me.

"I just wanted to know…" she paused. "So Bill said if I don't leave tomorrow, which I pretty much intend to because I can't imagine sticking around. But if I do stay he keeps saying he'll take me for a walk in his woods…what's that about?"

"About?"

"Yeah. What's that a euphemism for? I mean, I don't really know all the, uh, figures of speech from around here. So I'd like to be prepared, as it were." Karin's face creased in confusion.

I burst out laughing, even though it made my face hurt a little.

"What?" she asked, sounding annoyed.

"Well, it's just that. It's a walk in the woods. There's woods all around Bill's place, same as mine. On a hot day it's nice in amongst the trees."

"So…it's just a walk to look at some trees?" Karin didn't sound particularly enthusiastic.

"You get to spend time together as well," I told her.

Karin shrugged. "Or we could just have sex?"

I winced, just a little. File that under things I didn't really need to know. "I guess. If that's what you want."

Karin adopted a non-committal expression. "Meh. I'll see how the drive back to the motel goes." She put one hand on the door-handle and opened it slightly. "OK. Well, nice to meet you, Sookie. Hope your face feels better soon and that Eric, uh…" She stopped and thought about that. "Anyway, enjoy the experience of working for him. It's kinda unique."

I said "Bye, Karin," and with that she disappeared out the door, leaving me feeling more confused than ever about, well, everything.

And then the person I was most confused about walked back into his office. "Karin's gone?" Eric asked.

"Yep. Bill's giving her a ride."

Eric rolled his eyes slightly at that. "She never changes," he muttered darkly.

"Jealous?" I asked, blurting it out before I really thought about the implications. It sounded far bitchier than I would have liked and, more to the point, it sent all the wrong signals. I was not going to be that woman, the one who couldn't let go of any man she got her claws into. I'd seen Arlene lurch from man to man, always insisting the new guy was the one, and spending weeks hounding him down if he dared make a break for it. It always ended anyway, and it always ended badly. So, no, I hadn't ever wanted to end up like that.

And then I'd gone and accused the boss I'd slept with once of being jealous over some other person he'd slept with at some point in his past. I could only blame the fact that I was sore and tired and just…not dealing too well with everything right then.

"Far from it," Eric said, his voice tinged with anger. "I'd be more likely to be worried about Bill if I didn't think that at least this might at least alter your view of him."

"What view of him?" I asked, somewhat harshly. I might have been throwing accusations at Eric, but it didn't mean I was going to stand by while he threw them back at me.

"Oh, please Sookie. Don't pretend like you don't think he's your knight in shining armour, showing up every time there's a problem and fixing it for you."

"Really, Eric? Because I don't remember Bill being here the last time I got beaten up at work. It was just you and your 'what did you do to yourself this time?' attitude that night."

"Well, I'm so sorry that I'm not fucking Bill and prepared to drop everything to come and help you."

"Yep. Well, why would you when you've got Karin travelling cross-country just to sit here and go through your books. And whatever else it is Karin does for you."

Eric looked positively murderous. He took a step closer to me and I had to take a deep breath and physically will my body not to back away from him. I wasn't quite sure how we got into this fight, and I was pretty sure that, if I stopped to think about it, we weren't even fighting about anything important. But I was running on adrenaline and I would sooner die than back down now.

"Well Karin doesn't stand around accusing me of a bunch of fucking things I haven't done, Sookie. Quite frankly, I find that infinitely preferable."

"I'm sure you do. Must be nice to have lackeys like her running around. But I guess maybe she doesn't have to accuse you of anything because she already knows what you're capable of."

Eric looked a little shocked at that. "What do you mean?" he said, in a low voice that wasn't much more than a growl. I remembered how intimidating I'd found him the first time he'd interviewed me, here, in this office. I had been right then, in thinking he was scary, and maybe I was right in thinking the same thing now.

Maybe it was just all the in-between times that I'd been wrong.

I took a deep breath and thought very hard about what I wanted to say next, which I could tell tested Eric's patience. "Well?" he demanded.

"I just want to know if you planned that tonight…if Long Shadow coming after me was part of the plan when you called me into the office. Was it?" My anger had all but dissipated now, and I finished that sentence with my voice sounding as lost and confused as I suddenly felt inside.

I had, of course, wanted Eric to deny it outright, perhaps even throw a few more angry words and looks my way to show me what he thought of my preposterous idea. But he didn't.

He looked like most of the fight had gone out of him too. He sighed, and ran a hand through his hair. He didn't make eye contact. "I thought he'd do something stupid. I thought he might try it here in the office. I didn't think he'd go that far. Or be that public."

"So I was the bait to get him to lose his cool so you could get him arrested or fire him, or both?"

"Sookie," Eric said, looking at me again. He looked torn. "I never, ever meant for you to get seriously hurt. If I'd thought that he'd hit you, then I wouldn't have left him alone for a second. You have to believe that."

"Do I? What's in it for me if I do Eric? Do I get the honour of staying on your team long enough to get beaten up for a third time?"

"None of this is what I wanted," Eric said, vehemently, pointing to the floor.

"No. But it was always the risk, I guess. And I hear you're big on taking risks." I stared him down.

"Fucking Karin!"

"Yeah. That's right, Eric. Blame her. Well…I'm outta here. See you." And I pushed past Eric and walked out of the office before we started fighting about Karin all over again. I didn't think she was really the problem.

The problem was, I told myself as I walked to the storeroom, that I cared a little bit too much about someone I possibly couldn't trust.

I didn't think there was a quick-fix for that.

I pulled my purse out of my locker and noted that the other lockers were open, and empty. It looked like Ginger and Dawn had been sent home, which wasn't surprising if the bar had been closed. I took a moment to think about the money we were all losing in tips, and then I took my purse and walked out into the main bar area. The only person in the whole place was Pam, who was sitting at the bar.

"Jason says he'll call you tomorrow and check that you're all right," she said, sliding off her stool. "You want a drink?" She walked around to the other side of the bar.

"Oh. Um. I don't know…"

"You've probably earned it tonight."

"OK then. Gin and tonic."

That made Pam smile to herself. "My mother always drank gin," she said. "Mother's ruin, she called it. Sometimes, it was." She poured the drink and passed it to me.

"Thanks," I said, taking a sip.

"Well, I've got the hang of it all now. I am a bartender extraordinaire!" Pam threw up her hands in an elaborate gesture. "Or, not really. I coped."

"You did," I agreed, and I took another sip.

"So how are you coping?" Pam asked, leaning on the bar and looking at me.

"Me? Oh…well. I'm OK." I took a large sip. "I may have, ah…well, I'm not sure that Eric and I are on the friendliest of terms at the moment."

"Really?" Pam asked, raising her perfect eyebrows.

"Mmm." I looked down at the surface of the bar. "I didn't appreciate being used as bait for Long Shadow."

"Bait?" Pam's forehead creased.

"Yeah. I mean, that was the gamble Eric took, wasn't it?" I looked at Pam, but her face wasn't giving anything away and she maintained her expression of mild interest. "That he'd come after me, and then Eric would have a real reason for throwing him out on his ass." I sighed a little, and touched a hand to my face, which was still tender.

"Well…I don't know," Pam said, and she sounded as though she genuinely didn't.

"I mean taking risks is one thing, but this was…risking me."

Pam looked thoughtful. "Have you been talking to Karin?" she asked.

"A little. But that hardly changes what happened."

"No," Pam said, slowly, as she straightened up. "No, but it puts a particular spin on things. And Karin is all about slapping Eric on the wrist for what she considers risky, and not realising she's not much better. She might do what she does in the name of efficiency and maintaining shareholder returns, but she's not sticking around to face the consequences of her slashing and burning. They don't call her Karin the Slaughterer for nothing."

"Oh. They do?" I asked. Pam nodded. That didn't sound like a nickname I'd want to be given. "Maybe I should have warned Bill?"

"I think Bill will be fine for one night. And she's more likely to want to point out inefficiencies in his operating model than actually dismember him, but the effect can be equally brutal when you're on the receiving end."

"Right." But that didn't really solve the central problem with Eric.

"And she's a little…um…single-minded, I guess you'd say. She lacks a view of the bigger picture. And she wears too much black." Pam wrinkled her nose.

"So tell me, great oracle behind the bar," I said, and I wondered if perhaps I'd been gulping my drink when I should have been sipping. "What is the bigger picture here?"

"Not all risks are bad," Pam said simply, like that was the most obvious thing. "And everyone has to risk something sometime."

"Yes, but there's a difference, isn't there?" I asked. "Between risking a broken heart to be with the woman you love, and risking…well, no one knew what Long Shadow might do, did they? So that was probably the first problem."

"Well, yes," Pam said. "But I wasn't actually talking about Miriam and me."

"Oh." That made me feel a little bad, like I'd been tossing around the name of Pam's departed wife in vain. Of course getting hit in the face wasn't anywhere near as bad as being widowed.

"I was thinking more about the time Eric asked me to marry him," Pam said simply, like I already knew that story.

I began to wonder if I'd gulped that whole gin and tonic down in one go. "He did?" I asked, confused about where this was going.

"Yes. When it looked as though I might not be able to retain my right to work here. We threw an engagement party and everything. Karin got a little drunk and made out with a waiter by the restaurant bathrooms. Other than that, it was a very pleasant evening."

"But you didn't actually get married?"

"No. We didn't need to, in the end. My employer's sponsorship proved to be good enough and I got the visa I needed. We told everyone the engagement hadn't worked out, and carried on as before." Pam watched me closely to see how I was taking this tale. "The point of all of this is, Sookie, that he would have gone through with it. He would have married me, and risked whatever repercussions that had for him, because he was my friend."

"So, he's normally good to his friends?"

"Loyalty is one of Eric's strong suits, even if it's sometimes a little misplaced. Like his odd notion that Karin still forms part of his retinue."

"He had a retinue?"

Pam nodded. "You would have thought he did, the way they all flocked around him and hung on his every word. But that life is over now, for Eric. And this bar is what he has. And he'll do anything to protect it, and the people who work here."

"Even if it means some of them get hurt in the process?"

"I really don't think that was ever anyone's intention, Sookie. Apart from Long Shadow's, that is. He was definitely out to hurt you."

I sighed. "I know. But it still feels like I should have known what I was walking into when Eric called me in to his office. I feel like I'm out of the loop." I finished my drink. "Maybe it's time to turn in my Team Eric t-shirt?"

Pam smiled a little at that. "I can't pretend to you that Eric's perfect, or that he operates completely without any self-interest, but then I couldn't say that about anyone. Not even myself." She gave me a big grin, and then winked at me.

Sadly her good humour wasn't as catching as she'd probably hoped it would be, and I was left with a gnawing worry in the pit of my stomach. "I don't really know…what I…" I paused. "I'm just more confused than ever." I felt like I was going in circles.

"I think you need a good night's sleep and a fresh start in the morning," Pam said, coming around the bar and patting me on the shoulder. "And then you'll just have to take it from there. I can't make any decisions for you."

"No. Guess not."

At that moment Eric walked into the bar and looked from me to Pam and back again. "Everything all right?" he asked, darkly.

"Super," Pam replied. "Sookie was just heading home. She's had a rough night." Pam picked up my purse off the bar.

Eric glared at Pam, as though daring her to challenge him about my injuries, but she didn't. She just held my arm and started walking, pulling me along with her. She started to steer me past Eric, but he put a hand on my other arm and I had to stop.

"I really am sorry you were hurt," he said.

"I know you are," I said, as sincerely as I could. "But I really just wish I'd known the whole plan before it happened. I don't expect you to tell me every little detail of your life, but things that I'm involved in…work things…Eric, I just want to know ahead of time, OK?"

He nodded. "It's just a good thing Claude was there," I said, as I started to walk off again.

"Yes," Eric said behind me, but it didn't sound like he agreed with me. I couldn't bring myself to muster much concern about that. I felt like I'd mended all the fences I was going to with Eric tonight, and if he was feeling sore about another guy being the one to subdue Long Shadow, he was just going to have to deal with that one on his own.

Pam and I walked out into the corridor out the back. "So, Claude seemed to be very interested in you tonight, Sookie?" Pam asked, in a determinedly conversational tone. The question seemed loaded however.

"He wanted to visit with me. I don't know why. I'm hardly his type!" I laughed, but Pam didn't join in.

"Yes…" she said slowly. "The police that were here talked to him for a while before he left. They seemed to know him." She waited for my response.

"Maybe they do? I barely know him, though, so I can't say what their relationship might be."

"No. Well, it's all most interesting. And, as you said, just lucky he was there." She finished off brightly, but her eyes looked a little worried. She released my arm and then gathered all of me up in a hug.

"Goodnight, Sookie," she said, kissing me lightly on the cheek. She handed me my purse and then she turned to go back to the bar, and I walked out into the parking lot.

The rain had finally stopped, which I was glad of, but the air smelt moist and felt thick. The spotlight shone out into the parking lot, illuminating all the puddles I'd have to avoid on my way to the car, if I didn't want to drive home with wet socks.

It also illuminated someone I couldn't avoid, not when he was standing right there, beside my car, not caring at all that he was visible to anyone who might be out here beside the mosquitoes and the frogs. Quite possibly he was enjoying his moment in the spotlight.

"I'm so glad you're here," Claude said, as though he'd run into me at a church barbeque. "I've been waiting to talk to you all night."

"What about?" I asked.

Claude rolled his eyes and waited for a moment, clearly relishing the dramatic impact. "Because, Sookie, I want this bar."

"This…bar?"

"Yes. And I want you to get it for me."

And just at the point when I thought my night couldn't get any stranger, I was plunged down a whole other rabbit-hole.

"I…what? You want the bar?" I stammered, and Claude gave me a rather pitying look, like I was the slow member of the class.

"I want to move on from Hooligan's. Working with your family is only fun in very small doses. And I want my own bar. This bar."

"But it's not for sale," I said.

"No, but I have it on good authority that it's not doing so well. The vultures are circling you might say." Claude drew some circles in the air to illustrate his point.

"What authority?"

Claude gave me a long, hard stare. "Maybe it is true what they say about blondes," he said, rather rudely. Any good feeling I had towards Claude earlier in the evening was rapidly dissipating. "You know it's really rather obvious if you think about it."

"Excuse me for not being at my sharpest. I got hit earlier tonight."

"I remember. I also remember saving you from being hit again, and I'm not sure you're really all that grateful." Claude's words were laced with menace and for a fleeting moment I was scared of him. But then he relaxed and smiled again and seemed a little less threatening.

I sure hoped he was, anyway.

"I am grateful. I'm just confused about what's going on here. And what you expect me to do!" I was frustrated now, more than scared. I just wanted Claude to shut up, move out of my way, and let me go home.

Claude sighed dramatically, and folded his arms across his chest. "Let me break it down for you, Sookie. Your _friend_ Long Shadow has been making his presence known at Hooligan's. He took quite a shine to Claudine."

"He did?"

"Yes. When she danced. He started trying to get her attention by throwing his money around. Said he owned this bar. But, when I asked him about it, he confessed that he was just the manager, and that the bar wasn't doing all that well."

"Partially because of him," I pointed out.

"Yes, yes. Whatever!" Claude didn't sound interested in that side of the story. "And so I asked him a few questions and, eventually, we struck a deal. He'd help me get the bar, make sure I was first in line to buy when the time came, and I would get him some time with Claudine."

And I had thought harsh thoughts about Jason. "You'd sell your own sister for a bar?"

"No. But I'd get her date for one. Honestly Sookie, don't be so small-minded. It's not very becoming." I made a face and then regretted it when Claude glared at me. I checked myself and decided not to provoke him.

"Go on," I said.

"Sooo, then I ran into you and you intrigued me. I asked Long Shadow and he was just full of information about how much time you spent with the boss and what you-all were up to."

"He's not telling the truth."

"Mmm, maybe he embellished it a little. He was quite detailed. I guess he spends a lot of quality personal time with the internet." Oh, euw. That was a thought I really wished Claude hadn't voiced.

But he carried on. "So I came out here to have a look around last night, and, sure enough, there you were. And tonight I just wanted to have a little chat…but Long Shadow decided to act up and now…here we are. And look at you, all safe and sound, thanks to me!"

"And…for that I owe you?"

"Maybe just a little?" Claude said, holding out his thumb and forefinger just an inch or so apart. And then he laughed.

"So…you think that I can, somehow, persuade Eric that he should sell the bar to you?"

"I think we know what the somehow is, Sookie," Claude said, smoothly.

"And I should do it because you stopped Long Shadow?"

"Well, it's nice to reward those who help you." Claude just kept on smiling.

"And…if I don't? Because, as grateful as I am, I just…I can't see myself doing it."

"Well, if you don't then I guess I don't get my club," Claude pouted. "Which is a shame, because it was going to be lovely. And I was going to bring Claudine with me…just as a choreographer, not a dancer. I think she'd like that. A lot. Certainly it would make it easier to run that studio of hers if people don't think she's a stripper, wouldn't it?"

"Yes. And I want to help her, but I'm sorry Claude. I'm not doing whatever it is you think I'll do to get Eric to sell you the bar."

"Sookie, you're failing to grasp that you've already crossed the line by sleeping with the boss…"

I butted in. "I never said I had." My voice sounded hard, but it bounced straight off Claude.

"You didn't say you hadn't either. Tell me Sookie, what's he like?"

I kept my mouth resolutely shut, and Claude laughed again. It was quite clear that he was laughing at me, and I didn't appreciate it all. "Not spilling the bedroom secrets, huh? Pity. Oh well." He shrugged, and turned and I thought that might be the end of it, and that he might just leave then because I wouldn't help him. But it seemed like Claude had one last card to play. He put his hand to his chin, looking thoughtful.

"You know," he said, slowly. "I guess if you won't help it'll be back to my original plan and I'll have to get Long Shadow to, uh, put in a good word for me."

"I don't think that'll work now," I pointed out.

"No. But it might be worth a try." Claude shrugged. "Just a shame he's in a police cell right now, trying to make bail. I doubt he will, of course." And then Claude dropped the nonchalance and gave me a long, hard look. He stopped looking handsome, and, under the harsh glare of the spotlight, he just looked mean and ugly. "Unless someone steps in and helps him out, that is. Bet he'd be real glad to get out sooner rather than later." And then he leaned in close, so he could whisper in my ear. "I'm quite sure," he said, "that Long Shadow won't be happy with just taking your purse." He gave me one last dazzling smile, before he turned and walked off into the darkness, where I heard the beep of a car door being unlocked, and then an engine starting, and, finally, the crunch of tyres on gravel as he drove off.

I stood rooted to the spot, unsure of what to do. Should I go back inside and tell Eric about Claude, or just go home?

In the end tiredness and my earlier fight with Eric won out. I wasn't in the mood to have that conversation with him right then. It could wait until tomorrow. I doubted Claude was going to bail Long Shadow out right away. Not until he knew which way I was going to jump.

And, right at that point in time, I wasn't one hundred per cent sure myself.

I unlocked my car, and drove off into the night.

**So in a week's time I am off on holiday overseas for about four weeks, with the family in tow. Goodness knows if I'll have time to write, or any internet connection if I do, so this may be the last chapter until August. If it is, know the story is not forgotten and I will finish it up.**

**Thanks for reading!**


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